Avante
by Zaz9-zaa0
Summary: Postgame, complete. As the land beneath their feet and the certainty behind their eyes threatens to collapse, a familiar ensemble races to find closure and the means to save the ones they love.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** It seems like forever since I've updated anything, much less started something, on this site. xD Needless to say, the urge to write for FFXIII has been bugging me since before I even completed the game. At this stage, I owe **Truth-Unspoken** for being a wonderful beta, and on a lesser note, the web novelization and the Ultimania for getting to this point. (On aside, while general focus of this story is the idea of 'family', it will also have moments of consideration towards the pairings of Snow/Serah and, on a developing basis, Fang/Lightning.)

* * *

1

The wind whipped past Lightning's shoulders as she observed the valley beneath her, a lush landscape fed by tiered falls branching away from their route to the Sulyya Springs. Seven months ago she would have taken little note of the streams had they trickled by, for all that had mattered when she stood at this cliff was the target in the sky. Breathtaking as the sounds and sights of Gran Pulse were they had nonetheless existed in the periphery of her notice. Some phenomena were briefly successful in captivating her attention, either coming within arm's reach of her without giving the impression of hostility or being pointed out to her by one of the two home comers she had traveled with.

All that remained the same was her constant vigilance. 'Hated l'Cie' had become 'Saviours of Humanity'. The nest of lies and slaughter was a glittering monument fated to be forever reaching for its former seat in the sky; alarmingly whole and benevolent without the stronghold of deceit lurking in plain sight. What had once been cold winds whispering through trees and rustling grasses with the burden of ghastly lament now breezed by with laughter and activity, the calls and crooning of Pulsian wildlife similarly enhanced with the hustle and bustle of a thriving society.

By all means Lightning was happy -for the former citizens of Cocoon, who had survived its fall and were steadily adapting to their organic surroundings. For the good health of these people, whose eyes shone at the uncontrolled beauty of this land, their skin glowing with a life unattainable from artificial sunlight and synthetic meals. For their resourcefulness in cooperating with the organized efforts in excavating what they could from Cocoon, from airships to portions of pavement, to build a settlement in an ideal clearing which lay beyond the sparse forest at her back, near the rivers bound for Sulyya.

When among company she embraced this happiness, sharing it and enjoying all it had to offer. When alone on patrol (seldom as that was, for pragmatism mandated that people travel in groups of four at minimum when near the outskirts of civilization) or in rumination Lightning would hold her optimism at a distance and thought of the void.

There was no point in closing her eyes and pretending they were here, that they still breathed and ran and fought at her side. The absence of Oerba Yun Fang and Oerba Dia Vanille had not lessened with the prosperity of the new found civilization. Lightning and the former l'Cie, her family, knew as well as the next person that wallowing in reveries would hardly be any way to make their sacrifice worthwhile. As much as they lived on, melancholy made its subtle approach from time to time.

She had tried to mask her initial response with concern for Hope -as soon as proper education had resumed, the youth had dived into his studies and scarcely interacted with his fellow students. With Bartholomew Estheim up to his neck in repairing the state of the financial system, father and son did not necessarily have the opportunity to sit down and talk. The man meant well and wanted the best for his remaining family yet Lightning wondered if he could understand the effect Vanille's friendship had on Hope. She had taken the youth aside, his arguing and insistence at being left alone falling flat as Lightning cut to the core of his seclusion.

"I miss them, too," she confided, "It's not right for them to be as they are. We will bring them home, Hope. We will make it possible."

Lightning stifled the bristling sense of impatience at the back of her mind, a force of stifled strength that demanded action in the face of circumstances demanding tedious calm. '_We will'_ was of mutual consensus among their number, from Snow to Serah, Sazh to Hope, from herself to them and so on. '_When will we'_ was the pressing variant that followed close behind. Their previous excursion to Gran Pulse gave them the basics of understanding the world; this alone made their involvement in creating the infrastructure for the new society invaluable. The extent of their labors resulted in late nights or early mornings and, depending on their immersion in a particular aspect of transport, commerce, security or residency, limited communication.

The embodiment of remembrance varied. Sazh would sometimes mutter about 'keeping it together' or smile wanly upon seeing the curious flocks of sheep or a particularly unique fossil in the riverbed -things Vanille fancied. Snow lamely teased Lightning about missing the frequency of a few good punches from her and Fang, while once or twice Hope, when leaving their company, uttered 'Cia-' before quickly correcting himself. Having yet to properly meet Fang and Vanille, Dajh would yearn for stories about the strangers he had seen at Euride. Serah expressed similar interest in knowing more about them; though she had spoken to one only once, there was a certain weight of concern to her step whenever she walked along the sandbar, thinking of scraped knees and reassurance.

They were tired of the obligations that held them back from dropping everything to take the crystal structure by storm, of acknowledging what little information they had come up with to reverse their stasis, of doing all in their power to bring a civilization back on its feet and sustain itself, rather than toss their fates to a higher, malevolent force.

Cheers rose from the valley, heralding a triumphant fishing expedition. Flying outside of hostile range an amphisbaena soared lazily through the cloudless sky, and in the distance a pack of gorgonopsids howled.

"_Bet you didn't know the females are the ones who call the shots -guess we're not all that different from that lot, wouldn't you thi-"_

Silencing the memory Lightning turned and walked away.

* * *

Despite the casualties born of the Purge of Bodhum and the prelude to Ragnarok, there still remained millions of displaced survivors. With the Sanctum sufficiently abolished the elites of the Guardian Corps had combined their forces to give the refugees some semblance of order and protection, specifically from the interest of Gran Pulse's feral creatures. The remnants of PSICOM had seen far better days; the obliteration of the Wide-Area Response Brigade and heavy toll on the Capital Guard Division struck a sound blow to its numbers, though it was within the disorder of ranks that the most capable and efficient members, from seniors to soldiers who had enlisted in recent years, took charge in organizing the refugees and leading them away from the inhospitable shell.

Niflheim was initially constructed as a resting place within miles of Sulyya Springs, meant to last until a territory large enough to accommodate the population could be scouted out. The former l'Cie advised the citizens against venturing into the heart of the springs or hunting the creatures therein, warning of the fal'Cie Bismarck and, before any took panic to heart, his task in protecting the fauna and landscape of that area alone.

By the time coordination was addressed the subunits of the Guardian Corps had become a collective, to the extent in which one could find those enlisted in the Palumpolum Security Division working alongside the likes of the Nautilus Security Regiment. To diminish confusion the security sects were condensed into two groups, the Internal Security Division and the External Security Division; the former responsible for quashing criminal activity, disputes and providing response to structural emergencies in the camp proper, while the latter accepted volunteers towards the prevention of hostile creatures of a land-based or aerial nature from attacking the settlement.

Sustaining the people had been a hurdle -the presence of Carbuncle left many ill-prepared for the labors of supplying their own food. However, the dedication of a young woman affiliated with NORA gathered widespread support towards uncovering edible vegetables and fruits inhabiting the near-most surroundings; soon the process of soil cultivation and water culture was underway.

Following the domestication of sheep for clothing and culinary purposes was the taming of Chocobos. The survival of those which had been housed in Nautilus was put to the test, for the avians nearly died of fright upon seeing the greater height of their Pulsian brethren. Coincidentally, the Cocoon born Chocobos became of interest to the feral ones, resulting in smooth integration of the wild breed into the pre-existing flocks. With the Chocobos came numerous expeditions to the Mah'habara Subterra, from where several Dreadnoughts were acquired and polished up until deemed suitable for excavating building materials from Cocoon.

Within a few months it became apparent that Niflheim had promise beyond its original design. Airships that had been in flight during the fall of Cocoon and thusly modified as residences, infirmaries, orphanages and storage units were flanked by all manner of construction projects, from a shopping district to farms and individual homesteads. Plans for a docking bay for airships retrieved for flight commission were well underway while a stable currency system replaced the prior, popular use of Gil cards.

Crossing the patchwork pavement that wound around the fledgling market Lightning passed a parked motorcycle, its intricate design and feline insignia confirming it as one among the new line of vehicles released by NORA Transports. The efficiency with which Snow seized the opportunity of manufacturing standard road vehicles inspired the revival of sleek design that composed half of the biomech forces. Walking past construction sites it would not be unusual to catch sight of a Golem -the improved version of a Dreadnought, mainly constructed out of parts retrieved from inactive Orions.

The layout of Niflheim was simplistic. A dirt road engaged in the slow, sure process of being paved ran through the commerce, security, educational and business districts, running out to the residential buildings flanking the left of the square while agricultural areas were located to the right. Presently located in the square, NORA Transports was under the process of relocating to where the assembly of the airship yard was taking place, intending to lend their efforts to the cause and move their operations to a spacious meadow conveniently located a few feet from the docking bay. The far-off pace of an adamantoise would cause an occasional tremble in the earth, though the foundations of the buildings were made to withstand elements and megafauna alike.

Further into the market the air was heavy with the din of haggling and the tantalizing scent of spices. A beseeching twinge in her stomach reminded her of an offer made earlier in the week; having been occupied by a counterfeiting case she had put the suggestion at hold. With the station little more than three blocks away she ruled in favour of not prolonging the engagement any longer.

The Helicon was a humble in regards to space alone. Sharing a two-story building with a colourful clothing boutique, the café claimed the second floor, gaining a strong reputation from quality food and drink, well-organized staff and a patio boasting a view of sprawling wilderness, as well as an ideal vantage point from which the sunset could be admired. Lightning chose to take the stairs hugging the side of the building as opposed to meandering through the store. Even with insulated walls separating the interior from the street a battalion of shrill commentary from the shoppers therein pierced the walls. Clearing two steps at a time Lightning wondered if comparing the high-pitched squeals to Cie'th wails was worth consideration.

She slipped into the sheltered seating area unnoticed, the patio regulars immersed in entertainment of friends, chatting over mixed drinks or devouring the meal before them. Midday sunlight flooded the cozy establishment, leaving the paper lanterns to depend on their neon prints for attracting praise until their moment to properly shine came during later hours. A mosaic of bold blue and green tones breathed life into the ceiling, painted in fond remembrance of the Sunleth Waterscape.

A coat with a comparatively tame colour to its surroundings brought Lightning to her destination. She stood to the side of the table cluttered with sketches, napkins riddled with scratch notes and a glass or two that dared to brave the waves of work.

In his dedication to ensuring safe air travel routes from Niflheim to Cocoon and Mah'habara, Sazh Katzroy swiftly found himself equalled to the likes of personnel who had spearheaded the construction of vessels such as The Palamecia and The Lindblum. The cooperation of these individuals gave way to the assembly of aerial fiend patrols, public and commercial transport, and scouting fleets for Pulsian resources. It came as little surprise when, upon patching together a democracy to overlook the future of Niflheim, Sazh was indisputedly elected as the representative for airship research, investments and flight routes.

When Snow and Lightning were asked to accept a similar vote that put them as representatives of ground transport and the ESD respectively, the trio turned down the offers until it was agreed that the position of all representatives, whether they had fulfilled a Focus or not, would be shared by a group of candidates elected by the workers involved in their divisions. From this action, the creation of the current democracy was assured.

"See, Mr. Katzroy-"

"Just Sazh, kid. I feel old enough as it is."

Snow's intention to acquaint the elder Farron sister with the members of NORA had ultimately evolved into a merge of families; very early on the former l'Cie realized the tendency of NORA affiliates to jump at the chance to make themselves known. Of the eighteen members, two expressed interest towards apprenticeship under the pilot in respects to remodeling the engine cores of smaller airships and the fortification required to avoid or survive encounters with territorial wyverns.

Using a series of drink coasters to weigh down the corners of a rolled-up sketch, Maqui resumed his explanation, "This was what I was talking about earlier-"

"That's the White Engine?" leaning forward Gadot scrutinized the image, "Looks way too bulky, man."

"_Crystal_ Engine," the teenager corrected, a trifle miffed. "And this is purely conceptual. I'm just trying to get down the basics of fuel distribution."

In the midst of this Sazh scanned the accompanying notes, thoughtfully scratching his chin, "It's a good plan, don't get me wrong. You gotta be careful when it comes to deciding the right and wrong crystals to mine for it."

Maqui caught the subtle warning, "Don't worry about the Cie'th Stones -harming them is out of the question."

"Good to hear." said Lightning. The teenager jumped at the sudden vocalization of her presence, ignoring Gadot's chuckle at his reaction. Though the bite to her tone was relatively tame, her intolerance towards the desecration of Cie'th Stones was clear.

Grinning Sazh shook his head and pulled a chair over from a vacant table, "Been a while, soldier."

"Wasn't sure when you planned to resurface," Lightning replied, peeling apart two sheafs of paper adhered by the condensation of an abandoned glass. Sazh moved the neighbouring documents out of harm's way. "Good to see you're still in one piece," he countered playfully.

At this curiosity glinted in Maqui's eyes, "How's the business with the Orobons?"

Gadot shook his head, "ESD isn't involved with that, right?"

"Amodar and the ISD control that aspect of fiend concerns." she informed them. Maqui swished around what remained of his drink, "Lucky guy." Upon receiving an odd glance from his seniors he shrugged defensively. "What? They're kind of quaint."

"Especially when they rush you," Sazh deadpanned. The youths interpreted it as a joke, unaware of the flat look shared by the pilot and Lightning, unimpressed with how easily people were deceived by the pitiful crowing of the amphibious creatures.

Lightning unhooked the cell at her belt before it could finish its first trill. Gleaning over the number she excused herself from the table to find better reception, holding Gadot to his word of ordering an additional drink as he flagged down a waiter.

Moving out to the railing of the patio Lightning issued a concise greeting. Rushed as it was, the caller was able to get the gist of the message across to her. Briskly she wrapped up the conversation, returning the cell to her clip and waiting until the beat of her heart was firmly under control.

She sprinted down the stairs.

* * *

**Notes:** 'Niflheim' refers to Norse mythology, in which creation began when the fires of Muspelheim met the ice of Niflheim (paralleled with Gran Pulse being joined with Cocoon, resulting in the creation/revival of civilization on Gran Pulse).

The card system of purchase is mentioned in the web novelization.

'Helicon' is derived from Heliconius, a genus of butterfly found in tropical and subtropical climates.

White Engine is an allusion to the original name of the proprietary engine for Xbox 360 and PlayStation 3 platforms before it was renamed Crystal Tools.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Many thanks to readers, reviewers, subscribers and the one and only beta. In response to Firespray, I'll try my best to stay loyal to canon and the characters therein; however, this chapter may very well evidence that I might need to work a little on pinning down the dialogue of some characters more than others. Also concerning this chapter is its format -as the ending implicates Fang and Vanille to be sentient crystals, descriptive narrative has been left out in favour of 'dialogue'.

---

2

"_Fang?"_

"_I'm all ears."_

"_How are you?"_

"_I've had better days. Course, it's nice to be able to remember the events leading up to this. What about yourself?"_

"_In the same boat, I guess. Only..."_

"_Yeah. I see what you're getting at."_

"_It could be worse, I mean. I'm not sure if I could stand another year with nothing but my thoughts to listen to, much less a century."_

"_Just you wait -I bet you'll tire of my yammering before the next rainfall-"_

"_Don't be like that! It's not funny!"_

"_Come on, Vanille. You're too easy."_

"_If Hope were here, he'd never-"_

"_Have let us go through with it?"_

"_..."_

"_Hey. I didn't mean it like that."_

"_It's alright. I shouldn't have thought about-"_

"Vanille_."_

"_It's unfair to just up and abandon-"_

"_Quit dodging around the matter."_

"_I don't want to miss them -it's not right to. What if he's already finished his education? What if Lightning has grandnieces and grandnephews by now? Maybe... maybe Dajh is already a grown man -an old man... Why must it hurt like this?"_

"_Had we done this all that time ago, it would have been the same, Vanille. We would still be leaving everyone we knew and loved behind. We might have killed a number of them, taken out a whole village along with all of Cocoon. This time around, we knew what we were getting ourselves into. They helped us realize that. Because of that, Gran Pulse is alive again. Because of that, we are still human."_

"_Then there's no reason to not worry."_

"_What's this, Missy? Last I checked, Light was right quick about taking down a Behemoth King. One-on-one -and that's not even getting started on how those lads of ours can show the Raktavija what's what."_

"_But that's _obvious_. I'm more concerned about all those hundreds of thousands of sacrificial lambs, wrapped up in naivety now that the Sanctum isn't there to herd them to the slaughter yard."_

"_Our folks will sort them out. They've come a long way from being all talk."_

"_... Unless She has something to say about it."_

"_Far as I'm concerned, She was too little too late when we needed her."_

"_But She still heard us plead for Her to act where Anima had failed us, failed our families. She still answered and made it so that Cocoon was still under repairs when we woke."_

"_She slept nearly as long as we did, Vanille. It'll take some while for Her to shake off the dust and bare brittle teeth."_

"_They have to know, Fang. If they're not ready-"_

"_They've had a hand in saving people before; they'll be able to do it again. Be it a time of peace or a time of war, you still need to be on your guard. Besides, we've not been able to reach them since the aftermath."_

'_I guess it's sort of right that they can't hear us. Hearing voices in your head isn't exactly a sign of good health.'_

"_Not really. I'd think you've got yourself a clean bill of health if you be a good girl and obey that absolute lovely tone of voice your conscience has."_

"_Oh, you."_

"_Admit it, Missy. I transcend pragmatic thought in every sense of way."_

"_And I was the one who wanted to see what would happen if we installed rotors on Bhakti."_

"_Bugger off-"_

''_'Don't you worry that pretty little head of yours,' you said 'I know _exactly_ what I'm up to.'"_

"_I was _twelve_-"_

"_We were none the wiser, back then..."_

"_... Now we're here."_

"_Until the crystals turn to dust?"_

"_If only we knew."_

"_Fang... I don't mean for this to sound wrong, but I'm glad you're here."_

"_I wouldn't have it any other way."_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Looking back, I see that the 'She' Fang and Vanille refer to might be misinterpreted as how the Goddess is addressed in the Analects -if this 'She' comes into play, however, our party might wish they were to deal with the Goddess instead. xD Aside from that, Name:'s review does bring up a pretty good point; personally, I find Vanille a bit tricky to capture given that her character is built on how the cheery girl we see for the most of the game serves as a mask over an emotionally tormented individual. Course, it doesn't help that Vanille's comments are usually followed up by an action (skipping, clasping her hands together, shoving a kid without a driver's license into the front seat of an airbike...). But I digress.

* * *

3

Steam billowed from the spout of the tea kettle, its impatient shriek cut off as quickly as it sounded. Pouring the boiling water into its designated cup Serah set the kettle aside to cool, clasping both hands around the cup and turning to lean against the counter.

The exterior of the home shared by Lightning, Snow and herself bore little difference from the others in Winhill Avenue -a number of lightweight airships arranged in the style of apartment complexes, ranging from standard colours of silver, slate blue and bronze. Granted, the manufactured appearance softened under natural occurrences; infant ivy strands secured themselves to railings and stretched up towards windowsills while wildflowers and blades of grass lined porches and alleyways, braving the cloying dust kicked up from the road.

It would take far longer than a handful of weeks for the buildings to fully blend into their surroundings, yet Serah was quite content with the interior of her home. As any other family they had come to Gran Pulse with little more than the clothes on their backs and the contents of their pockets. To excavate keepsakes from crystallized homes was as much a waste of resources as it was a selfish motive, and though the lack of her mother's smiling, framed portrait or one of father's paintings had been somewhat disquieting, the cloud of unsettlement hanging over her was cast aside with the overwhelming relief of having the two people she loved most alive, unharmed and on good terms with one another.

She paused at the window on her way back to the study, carefully examining the fragile sprouts basking in the sunlight. While hunting for Flans, Yuj had come across a meadow of lavender flowers. He was of the belief that the particular hue would complement the colour of her hair; taking his word for it, Serah accepted Yuj's gift in hopes that it would aid the operation of livening up the rust-coloured walls.

Returning to the study she took a cautious sip of tea, savouring the steeped aroma. The difference of quality between Cocoon-grown ingredients and those harvested in Gran Pulse was startling to the point in which the thought of returning to the nourishment (or lack thereof) of her birth land was on par with ingesting artificially enhanced cardboard. She hovered before the desk momentarily, clearing a space for the cup amid a collection of jot notes, history texts and bookmarks. Once the workspace was arranged to her liking she untucked a pen from behind her ear and resumed writing.

From the beginning she understood that chronicling the Second Coming of Ragnarok would be an ambitious endeavour. Since waking from stasis Serah seized any opportunity to uncover the events following the Purge and lasting until the fall of Cocoon. The truth was related to her from four reliable sources; shortly after did it occur to her that, outside of direct association and kinship to the former l'Cie, the chance of anyone knowing the truth was slim to none.

She was not tackling this project alone -a few of her friends offered assistance with recording the circumstances leading up to the Purge, as well as their experience with their fragmenting society from the mob mentalities stewing in Palumpolum to the widespread panic in Eden. Serah was grateful for their help; relieved, moreover, that her friends did not pry at the conspicuous lack of communication from her at that time.

Perusing a notebook containing the pronunciation guide Serah frowned slightly. She wished for the identity of the l'Cie responsible for Anima's awakening to remain as it was -unknown and unsought by the public mind. The l'Cie who saved the people of Cocoon were the ones who deserved to be remembered. Those were the ones who were not at risk of being classified with the likes of Cid Raines; the knowledge of his noble attempts to rebel against the fal'Cie curse was drowned out by the status he was appointed to, earning him posthumous revulsion.

Unwilling to contemplate further into the unsettling subject, she addressed the footnotes disputing the names of Eidolons. Letty of Besaid Lane was convinced from their last conversation that 'Styria' was a misspelling of 'Stiria', whereas Ellone, who lived a few doors down from Serah, was more absorbed in whether or not 'Hecatoncheir' should be simplified as 'Hecaton' to minimize errors. Finishing her corrections Serah smiled at the sound of familiar, heavy footsteps exiting the living room. With the tea in hand she strode to the doorway and observed.

Mindful of the passenger atop his shoulders, Snow Villiers sidestepped the lamp hanging from the ceiling, "You sure it's not under the furnace?" he inquired.

Said passenger, barely a week into his seventh year, responded matter-of-factly, "Hina's a _she_, not an _it_."

"Right, my bad."

As Dajh's school was on the route home from NORA Transports, Snow's tendency to look after him on early dismissal days had become routine. On the occasion of having no afternoon classes to attend, Serah took similar action, for Dajh's cheerful personality quickly captured their hearts. Lightning permitted this schedule on the grounds of convenience -the necessity of bringing his son home before sunset gave Sazh the chance to put his work on hold and regroup with them, brainstorming the means to free the two Oerbans from imprisonment. It was a fair call yet Serah was not blind to the every-so-often evidence that proved her elder sister was no more immune than the rest of them to the young Katzroy.

The boy's voice carried out into the hall even as the man moved to the foyer, investigating the coat rack for any indication of the runaway. "Daddy says Miss Fang knows everything about anything on Gran Pulse." Thoughtfully, Dajh added, "Maybe she'll tell me all about the wild Chocobos when she and Miss Vanille wake up!"

Snow retained a confident tone, the melancholic shade in his eyes unseen by the boy. "Once this family is safe and sound, we'll head down to the Steppe. The wild flocks live around there -some grow taller than me and your old man put together."

Dajh grinned excitedly, "No way..."

Slipping back into the study Serah set the teacup on top of a low bookshelf flanked by a distressed armchair, having lost sight of the comfort associated with the beverage. The feeling of crystal stasis had yet to thaw from her memories. There would be nights in which she would wake in a panic, recalling the stillness of her lungs, her heart flitting between the boundaries of slumber and suffocation. How anyone could endure five centuries of terrifying repose was beyond her; for the two people responsible for the survival of her nearest and dearest might face such a state of being for eternity was something she would not stand for.

Perhaps their progress in reviving the Oerbans went hand in hand with the road leading to a stable city, to a time and place that could accommodate matrimony. As far as she was concerned, weddings were not organized overnight, and it would take a far greater force than that of fal'Cie combined for her to even imagine doubting the support and devotion of her intended.

A shiver ran along the pillow resting on the armchair. Serah pulled it aside, receiving the fugitive's inquisitive, beady eyes with an amused smile prior to summoning Snow and Dajh.

Hina was among a generation of captivity-born Chocobos whose adult height would surpass that of their parents by a few inches. Whether or not the longevity of the Chocobo chick would also benefit from the nutrients of untreated feed had yet to be determined, though the effect it had on her girth was unquestionable.

Serah scooped up the rotund chick with both hands, stroking her downy wing while the boy clambered down from Snow's shoulders. Hina willed her stubby wings into flight, hovering into an easy landing atop her master's head as he remembered his manners, "Thanks for finding her, Auntie Serah."

"We can't let Snow get away with all the hero business," the younger Farron teased. Her fiancé grinned, wrapping an arm around her shoulders while feigning lament, "Just when I thought it would end with Light -I might as well retire."

Ever perceptive Dajh tilted his head at the way Serah leaned into Snow's side, a light warble from Hina affirming that the ideal distance between him and the presence of cooties was rapidly diminishing. Noticing the guarded expression passed between boy and Chocobo, the man inclined his head in the direction of the kitchen. "Want to check out that leftover dessert situation?"

The boy dashed out of the study before the sentence was finished, accompanied by Hina's enthusiastic chirping. Embraced in silence the couple put the world on hold; haunting despairs and parasitic uncertainties cast aside in light of what was here and now, in tranquillity that would never again fall victim to the machinations of false deities and the ensuing degrees of separation.

Clay red dust hung in the air with the consistency of fog, aggravating sight and breath as it arose from the yawning chasm. Coughing against the back of his hand Amodar stood where he would not be in the way of the paramedics swarming around makeshift tents and body bags fashioned from the same material. In spite of their experience and unparalleled response time, the head of ISD affairs faced the predicament with military scruples; before the hour was out, it was likely that the souls who were caught up in the heart of the rockslide would be unsalvageable as the path linking Mah'habara to the Springs.

In the cage of Cocoon the fal'Cie Yojimbo had supervised geological activity, arranging land formations to the highest potential of support beneath roads, cities and travel routes. Limited as his acquaintance with natural disasters was, Amodar was unable to shake the feeling of this being an abnormal occurrence. Just as well, Gran Pulse in itself was something he was gradually familiarizing with -landslides like these could very well be commonplace in other parts of this world.

He grit his teeth at the echoes slithering past the earthen haze, desperate voices pleading for freedom, loved ones, the salvation of clean air. The former Lieutenant cursed his helplessness, cursed his willingness to stand idle as the people of Bodhum -his neighbours and friends therein, were shipped off to the Hanging Edge for the greater good of Cocoon citizens. Accounts of what had transpired there varied, from the site of a terrorist attack to the attempted rescue of innocent lives. To Amodar it all amounted to the same outcome -nothing but grief repeating the pattern of war, of old men talking and young people dying.

An individual hurried through the fog; differentiating the person's steady pace from the urgent jog of medics Amodar remained where he was. With a few feet between them the identity of the young woman became clear, her approach defined by professional solemnity. "ESD is on their way, sir."

From afar the reverberation of the landslide could be easily mistaken for the thunderous step of an adamantoise. The former Lieutenant was unwilling to chance that the fiends of Gran Pulse would assume the same and pass on the opportunity of trapped, defenceless prey.

The woman scrutinized the edges of the chasm as though the dust had lifted; recognizing it as a trait typical to Corps Gunners, Amodar spoke, the earth particles scratching his voice, "What's your evaluation, Torres?"

"Recovery teams estimate a sixty foot drop. Out of the thirty civilians involved, eleven are still unaccounted for. As of the last half-hour, there are five confirmed casualties." Clearing her throat she went on, "We have yet to determine the number of workers to be recovered. However, there is indication that they were in the process of transporting Dreadnoughts from their storage units within the mines."

Torres remark on the welfare of the workers lacked assurance, for Amodar knew as well as she did that the likelihood of the machines crushing the passengers they were designed to protect depended on the stability of the chasm's edge. The restoration of these machines was what brought the civilians to the mines -a class of students touring the Subterra as part of their studies in engineering.

"Anything else to report?" the former Lieutenant asked, not wishing to dwell on the five, perhaps counting losses, irreplaceably taken from their parents and siblings.

Bemusement flickered across Torres' dark eyes, "One of my associates did notice that one of your subordinates was listed on a student's contact card."

Amodar raised an eyebrow, "Did you get a name on the kid?"

"Something along the lines of Esteem-"

"Es_theim_."

He gave Lightning a curt nod of acknowledgement, noting the thin, taut line Torres' lips formed at the younger woman's sudden presence. The former l'Cie were invaluable in regards to the wellbeing and protection of the people, yet lingering sentiments of trepidation towards them were not uncommon. Amodar recalled his surprise upon seeing the broadcast from Palumpolum; his comrade was called a monster though her appearance bore no eldritch mutations. She was called a threat despite no report of civilian casualties or attacks during the time in which she had travelled from the harbour to the Agora. It had been a confusing time; all that mattered now was that Farron was no longer a l'Cie. She had returned to her family, set up a new life for herself and, miracle that it was, managed the occasional laugh.

"How's the situation?" Lightning asked, calmly walking a couple feet ahead of the ISD affiliates for a better look at the abyss.

The former Lieutenant addressed her, eliminating the possibility of inferred animosity in an incident that demanded cooperation. "Eleven civilians are still MIA," he debriefed, "No word on the exact number of workers trapped down there. It's at least sixty -Farron, where are you -whoa, hold it!"

Ignoring Amodar's alarm Lightning vaulted into a run, the cold electricity of the AMP glossing over her body as she dove headfirst into the chasm.

A small commotion among the recently-arrived ESD members was dispersed as Amodar snapped out of his incredulity to bark orders at them. Torres blinked once, her comment announcing the winner in the battle waged between contempt and awe as they vied for a hint of recognition in her voice.

"_Damn_."

"You're telling me." The former Lieutenant sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

* * *

**Notes:** Ellone and Winhill are references to a character and location in Final Fantasy VIII, as are Letty and Besaid in regards to Final Fantasy X.

'Hina' is still disputed as an unofficial name for the Chocobo chick -I've yet to hear any news as to where it originated from. However, I'm using it on the basis that is sounds endearing (and, in Japanese, translates as 'young bird/chick').

Yojimbo is one of the summons present in Final Fantasy X.

Fun fact: This makes Snow the third person to have Dajh on their shoulders, the first being Sazh and the second being Yaag Rosch. That's right. Yaag 'Surrender l'Cie' Rosch advocates piggyback rides, as shown in Sazh's portion of the web novelization.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** I'm surprised to see Anon was the only one to voice concern over Hope xD Ah well, he's a resourceful stud (and has some sort of robo-telekinesis. Or is very genre savvy). I hope everyone had a swell Easter and for some, a break week. :3

* * *

4

"_Great_."

A shower of dust answered Hope's sarcasm. Sourly he shook the worst of it out of his hair, regretting the action as a sneeze interrupted his dissection of the Juggernaut's oxidized innards.

The roar summoned a prompt response from the restoration workers -Atomos' usual rounds through the Subterra kept them on guard, for none wished to test trial and error with the odds of the Gran Pulse fal'Cie, especially regarding whether or not they were like to allow their world to collapse as Eden so idly did. Mere minutes into the harried order of ushering the students and teacher to the safety of the storage units, the rocks overhead fell, ranging from the size of one's fist to the circumference of a dining table as they crashed down upon pathways and Dreadnoughts, the gears of the rusted giants straining under the pressure of the crumbling earth.

Hope pulled his scarf higher over his nose. He had been some paces behind the class group, intrigued by a project attempting to dismantle the steam clean mechanism of a dormant Juggernaut. The automaton was prized for the internal workings of its flamethrower ability, yet the aim to adjust and replicate it for the use of above ground machinery had been thwarted by the time-worn corrosion of the steam clean tanks, resulting in the escaped condensation compromising details vital to accurate imitation.

Incidentally, the sought-after apparatus was responsible for the silver-haired teen's predicament. Only a fool would think to outrun a cave in; during a situation in which life and death could be determined with the drop of a stalactite, foolishness and sensibility took a backseat to basic survival instinct. As thus, Hope had scrambled into the compartment once reserved for wrecking balls, paying little heed towards the power generator which the automaton was parked beside.

The power generator in question had been impaled by a particularly jagged boulder, releasing erratic spark showers. The ancient components connecting the Juggernaut's right arm to the body proper had torn out of its sockets as though they were fashioned from tinfoil, giving Hope a direct view of the sporadic light, as well as putting scarce feet between the short-circuiting generator and the fuel reservoir for the fire-based attack.

Hope's current frustration revolved around the pipe which was responsible for funnelling an equal amount of the flammable substance to both appendages. The left did not require his concern; the right, on the other hand, was cleaved in half, in which another tremor or further burden pressing down on the automaton would send the oil on a direct course for the sparking generator. His plan to close off the broken pipe with the rectangular chains draped from the sides of the machine was experiencing a hiccup, for he had no reliable light source to assist the unclasping of the chains.

From his backpack came a meek chirrup. Reluctantly the silver-haired teen shrugged off the pack with slight difficulty in the cramped space, pulling it up to his side and unzipping it with a ruffled look. "This is why I keep telling you to stay home. You're not cut out for my kind of luck."

Bhakti's subsequent _beep_ offered a contradictory opinion.

Earlier in the year Sazh had spotted the remnant of Oerba while plotting a route to and from Cocoon, over Taejin's Tower and the ruined village. The robot had created a rut of tire tracks circling the village, searching for any sign that his dear mistress would once again come skipping over the hills of crystal dust. The pilot had passed custody of Bhakti to Hope, a distant sadness betraying the insistence that he had no time on his hands to keep the mechanical critter in tip-top shape for when Vanille awoke. Dents stood testament to the frequency with which the robot would get caught underfoot yet, after a few weeks of getting used to his presence Hope took the maintenance of Bhakti to heart, upgrading centuries-old conductors while equipping enhancements of a modern flair.

"Bhakti," Hope said, alerting the robot's binocular gaze, "Lights on."

A panel situated between the optic supports rose, pulling up a lens that flickered to life without hesitation. The sudden pool of light cast a dull glow on the Juggernaut's interior, sparing Hope the detriment of a harsh reflection searing his retina. Ensuring Bhakti would grow accustomed to the functions of the new applications was easier said than done; once Hope realized that the command system Vanille had taught the robot was a mere variation from the obedience taught to mammalian house pets, things improved for the better of both parties.

Under proper lighting the silver-haired teen found the weak points in the hangers, freeing the coils of chains and tying off the broken pipe. Satisfied with his work Hope returned the robot to the safety of his backpack, leaving it unzipped so Bhakti could illuminate the obstacles ahead.

Gingerly Hope shimmied down the hatch, relying on what little upper body strength he had to support the rest of him as his feet flailed for a secure stance on the uneven floor of the Subterra. To the relief of his arms he soon found stable footing, eyes watering from the cloud of dust he had inevitably kicked up. Leaving the tentative safety offered by the automaton he waited for the robot to readjust the lens so that it faced the heaps of rock and metal before them.

They were too far below ground to distinguish a gust of air from the surface, a fact which complicated the process of betting survival on one of a dozen chaotic tunnels. The silver-haired teen glanced back at the Juggernaut; judging by its placement, the Springs were to the left of the collapsed mine. Taking the paths to the right would ideally direct him to the Flower-filled Fissure -while a sub-section of the Subterra, the locale was in direct view of the sky above and hence within the range of an aerial patrol ship or recovery team.

While he did not know the extent of the damage Hope was willing to believe that Bismarck's protectiveness over the stability and inhabitants of the Springs would have amplified in perception of the irregularity. Pacing to the right of the Juggernaut he clenched a fist at his side out of confusion. Atomos crafted the underground paths as complex, lasting structures -why would he allow this destruction, unless he had failed to foresee it?

He put the thought aside, collecting a handful of shale to evaluate the vastness of the tunnels leading to the Fissure. The flakes of rock landed with minimal force, as Hope did not seek to encourage a chain reaction. Deciding on the most promising path he squeezed past the wreckage, hoisting himself over a waist-high boulder and crawling into the winding passage.

The intermittent rumble or trickle of grit halted their progress; the silver-haired teen reclaimed portions of control that lasted him through hell and back but months before. He kept his breathing even, as though the shifting rocks were a PSICOM contingent; his hands were discouraged from trembling, for losing his footing was as costly as losing hold of a weapon in the midst of battle.

To keep his mind off the tedious whirring of internal fans keeping the worst of the dust from clogging his processors Bhakti supplied empathetic commentary, twittering timidly whenever a notably fearsome shudder threatened the boulders weighing down on them or when Hope befell yet another bruise or scrape, wrought by the combined forces of the unstable surroundings and the natural clumsiness of adolescence.

In spite of the light guiding his way Hope found difficulty in telling discarded automata cogs and crumbled bridges apart from the rocks; for the colour and texture had been worn into a similar state. The outcome of this culminated in a misjudged step, leading Hope to sharply slip forward and graze his chin; his hastiness to collect his bearings acquainted Bhakti with the boulders overhead and incited a string of foul chirping.

The silver-haired teen bit his lower lip fiercely against the stinging pain under the point of his chin. "Just give me a break!" he snapped, bowing to a spasm of hyperventilation before a faint call prompted him to reclaim composure.

"Wh-" Hope swallowed a cough, continuing with a shout, "What?"

Straining his ears he picked up the voice again, words arising out of what had once been a murmur.

"... said... o's there...?"

Had he been unable to evolve from the mindset of a lost, bereaved child he would have froze, fearing the final pleas of fellow victims were to haunt him till he joined their ranks. He would have reacted to any mention of the Oerbans with the anger cultivated from grief. He would have interpreted Sazh's gesture as an intention to cause him further misery, something he believed fate to be hell-bent on from the moment he and his mother had boarded the Purge train.

Hope banished the quiver from his lungs as he surmounted the boulders, chasing after the voice. He could not falter. He could not succumb to panic. His only option was to do everything in his limited power if he was to change the fates of these victims -_survivors_, and give them the chance to see another dawn.

"Is there anyone else with you?" he yelled, trying to pin down the exact location of the individual.

"Only m... iends Anthony... -manda... Thomas... worker, too... niece to look after..."

A dull glow bounced off the door of the storage unit. Rapping his knuckles against the steel barrier Hope heard a buzz of voices join the first and called out to them, "I need everyone to back away from the door!"

The cynical remark of 'Who croaked and made you head of ISD?' was drowned out by a chorus of younger voices, questioning 'How far?' as they held fast to rekindled optimism. Crawling back from the barrier Hope blinked the dust out of his eyes, "Three feet," he shouted back, concentrating his energy until a flurry of embers began to dance over his palms.

When the shuffle of footsteps decreased the fira spell was fully charged. Hope hurled the intense flare at the door, summoning shell to materialize in prevention of the fire rebounding back at him. Quickly he channelled blizzara towards the door while the steel was still glowing red, giving it seconds to settle before awkwardly shifting around and kicking through the brittle barrier.

Compared to the claustrophobic tunnels the storage unit was mercifully spacious. Shoving his hands in his pockets to extinguish the residual smoke Hope took in the sight of his fellow classmates; of the two boys, the flaxen-haired Thomas was lying down, an overcoat binding a seeping gash on his lower leg while his eyes glazed in and out of consciousness. Fussing over the wound Anthony kept his head down, though his air of doubt was potent. Across the room sat Amanda, as far as she could physically be from the scent of blood. Closest to the door were the excavation worker and the speaker, the former a lanky, middle-aged man and the latter a willowy, freckled individual.

Hope looked to the speaker, "Thanks, Tess," he said in earnest, recalling her name upon associating the voice with appearance. The girl smiled weakly, hoarse from her persistence in seeking aid.

Ignoring the piercing glare of the excavation worker the silver-haired teen went over to Thomas. "How does it look?" he asked Anthony, motioning to the gash.

The hazel-eyed boy shook his head numbly, "Don't know... just bleeding everywhere, gave 'manda the willies-"

"I have a _condition_." Said girl interjected shakily, yet Anthony stayed absorbed in faraway thought. Abruptly he voiced the root of his uncertainty, staring at Hope with wide-eyed puzzlement, "How -can you use manadrive...? I don't understand-"

"Didn't you kids tune in to the Sanctum broadcasts?" the worker scoffed gruffly, "He's one of the l'Cie who put Palumpolum in a frenzy."

"... I can see Eden from my place..."

Thomas' brief venture into clarity diffused Hope's immediate irritation at the alarm flashing across the faces of his classmates. Unconcerned that the lens on his person was mistaken for Cocoon's capital Bhakti smacked his antenna against the back of Hope's head; of the mind that the teen was better off to go along with what he would do for an injury in any other predicament.

"I _was_ l'Cie," the silver-haired teen corrected, administering a cure spell to quicken coagulation of the gash, "And the people of Palumpolum had the right to get 'in a frenzy' when Rosch ordered them to be Purged."

Leaving them to a humbled hush Hope dismissed the healing aura from his grasp. As he was out of practice the patch-up was somewhat sub-par; even so, he needed to conserve the magic in case of hostilities further obstructed the path to the Fissure.

Hugging her knees to her chest Amanda narrowed her eyes, jerking her head towards the ceiling, "That doesn't sound right."

Past the background noise of shuddering minerals and metal Hope heard an uneven, creaking march. Curls of grit confirmed the Hoplite was situated above them; whether or not it would descend upon them was unclear. Tess motioned for Amanda to rejoin the huddle of students near the door, to which she complied with utmost velocity. Keeping track of the Hoplite's tread Hope felt his heart jump at another sound; the resonance of a blade hacking into steel, followed by a series of carbine shots-

The combat automaton came crashing down in a distorted mangle of limbs and broken sprockets. While Anthony, Tess and Amanda shrank back from the sight of the Hoplite's short-circuiting middle Hope grinned, knowing it a telltale sign of a staggered enemy.

With unrivalled grace Lightning leapt down the crater, rebounding off the head of her foe and, in the midst of a back flip, burying a hail of bullets in its midsection. Once his mentor had her feet on the ground the silver-haired teen alighted the blazefire saber with a wave of enthunder. At the height of adrenaline Lightning cut the combat automaton clean in half; purple torrents of electricity bounded off the saber and viciously sundered the Hoplite into two crackling piles of scrap metal.

Holstering the gunblade Lightning made her way towards the group, a thin layer of dust coating her cape -utilized to cover her nose and mouth. The student's excited chatter fell on deaf ears as she tilted Hope's chin up, glaring at the scuffmark of dirt and blood.

"It's nothing," he assured her, praying that the present collection of bruises would lead her to hold back from delivering a clouting reprimand. Accepting with the answer regardless Lightning assessed the group of refugees. "Is this everyone?" she asked.

Hope nodded in affirmation, "Did you find any others?"

"Sent two miners and a student to the Fissure," to the entirety of the group she went on, "I've signalled for recovery personnel. Providing we manage a steady pace, we should make it there a few minutes ahead of them. Are we ready to move out?"

Anthony examined Thomas' leg with a grimace, "He's bleeding again."

"I can't breathe." Amanda whimpered.

"_l'Cie_, of all things damned..." spat the excavation worker.

Lightning addressed the trio respectively, "Keep pressure on the wound. Pull up your collar. Cut the crap."

The worker turned his back to her, hiding his instinctive cower by giving Tess a boost up to the tunnel Lightning had created. Hope made to assist Amanda and Anthony with Thomas yet was held back by a firm hand on his shoulder. Brushing off Bhakti's chiding warble the silver-haired teen cringed inwardly at the interrogative stare his mentor gave him; demanding why he did not wait for help to come to him as mandated by emergency protocol, accentuated by remnants of agitated concern for his safety.

Hope ducked his head down, hurtling into an excuse, "It could've been worse?"

Lightning cuffed his shoulder, a sliver of amusement surfacing past her steely countenance, "Count your blessings," staring out at the refugees she added, "It's the least they can do."

The silver-haired teen followed her line of vision, relieved to see the group had scaled the worst of the ledge. His mentor nudged him forward, the dark earthen maze awaiting them a perfect contrast to the sickly glow of the Whitewood; the beginnings of reliance upon one another.

"I've got your back."

With grim determination Hope took the lead.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Sorry for the wait -school bombarded Truth and I as soon as Easter Break ended! I hope everyone's doing well in the meantime; this chapter turned out to be a tad tough to write, though I blame it on the last stages of the sinus cold blues. xD I apologise beforehand for not giving Bhakti as much of a spotlight as before -we'll see if I can fix that for later.

* * *

5

Shards of golden light were scattered across the misaligned steel arch, bleeding onto the boulders facing the backs of the refugees as they paused for a breather. Amanda lauded the whispers of air that trickled in with the sunlight, past the cracks in the rocks overhead. Wearily Tess listened to her, brushing beads of perspiration from her forehead while Jeril, the excavation worker, massaged a cramp in his leg. Directly under the stream of air Thomas was propped up against the abandoned sprocket of a Dreadnought, fidgeting as Lightning treated the seeping gash on his leg.

"I didn't really catch what happened," the flaxen-haired boy admitted, returning Anthony's coat to its owner, "Too busy running like hell."

Relatively unbothered with the bloodstain pooling over his coat the hazel-eyed boy smirked, "The railing spiked out after the pulley collapsed. Guess you and that Hevran bloke shouldn't have been pitching pebbles over it."

"Nearly won that bet," Thomas sighed, emitting a petulant yelp when Lightning tightened the gauze around his leg. Returning the remaining roll to the side pocket at her thigh the former soldier left the youths to their chatter, striding a short distance from their resting place to where Hope sat, on the lookout for any fiends following the path they had traversed.

Lightning crouched down beside him, resting a forearm over her knee, "How are you holding up?" she asked, scanning the depths of the cavern.

Cleaning a thin film of dust off of Bhakti's ocular lens Hope gave his mentor a half-shrug, "I'm doing alright. I just hope dad won't be a total wreck when we get home."

She chuckled, hammering down a cough clinging to the back of her throat, "So long as another PSICOM fleet doesn't tag along, I think he'll manage."

Focusing on how the silver-haired teen's shoulders seemed to slump under the weight of leaden concern, Lightning aborted the light-hearted demeanour and spoke on a direct level, "Once we have this group settled at the Fissure, I'm heading back for the rest."

The eager spark in Hope's eyes was grounded by his subsequent question, his voice lowered in awareness of any unwanted listeners, "Besides us, how many are still down there?"

Though not without setbacks, the path she had guided Hope towards in their time of persecution had enabled his stamina and willpower to reach unprecedented heights. However, he was still in many ways a child; someone who had yet to bear the crushing ramifications of an objective gone south, someone who had yet to understand how mortality and the limits therein fared when lives other than those of family were caught in the clutches of crisis zones.

Lightning spoke solemnly, "We can't control every fate outside of our own."

Beneath his scarf the silver-haired teen frowned, "But they can still take charge of their fate. If they don't know that, we can tell them..."

He trailed off upon receiving a particularly pointed stare. "They can ignore us just as easily," after another tremble passed under their feet she added, "We might be too late for some of them as it is."

"Before things like this happen -people need to be educated about what they could be up against." Bitterly, Hope narrowed his eyes, "In Cocoon, you told me I needed a strategy to survive," attempting to match her severity, Hope pressed on, "What about them? How would they-"

"There's a difference between being jeopardized by a natural disaster and having the entirety of PSICOM bearing down on you-"

"People die either way," he interrupted fiercely, "If someone's strong enough to take a stand, those deaths can be prevented."

"Is that right?" she retorted rigidly, "Is there a way to save everyone? Do you honestly think you'd be able to-"

"I can try-"

"'Trying' implies failure. We can only do so much, Hope. I don't want you to learn that the same way Snow did."

He broke away from her gaze, fighting back the revived scars of the Hanging Edge. Lightning knit her brows in frustration. Reality was harsh enough as it was without her getting short with him, yet Hope was young and stubborn. A kindred spirit in regards to having responsibility thrust upon her at such an age, Lightning accepted that there would be several disagreements like this to come. However, that she was in the mood to deal with insubordination from her sole source of backup in the midst of an evacuation was debatable.

The hollow whir entered their range of hearing with deceptive ease. Lightning tensed, her palm ghosting over to the saber's hilt. Catching the nonverbal alert Hope hauled himself into a crouch, adjusting his backpack and the robot therein in anticipation of fight or flight manoeuvre.

Guardedly Lightning approached the way from whence they came, staying within Hope's sight yet backtracking far enough to determine how close the pair of cryohedrons were. Eyes dead set on the hovering automata she gestured for him to fall back and get the group moving with as little commotion as possible. The cryohedrons' sensory components would inevitably flare at the motion of so many intruders, yet the former soldier was willing to grasp any ounce of time to buy for the refugees.

Half of the group had barely made it past the threshold of the path leading to the Fissure when the cryohedrons rotated viciously, sensing the shuffle of footsteps. So absorbed were they by the majority that neither noted Lightning's proximity to them; hence, one was preemptively shot while its companion met the edge of the fire-coated saber, the force of which causing it to collide with its fellow automaton.

With the cryohedrons' rage directed at one another Lightning fell into pace with Hope, the residual aura of enfire still glowing on his hands as they rejoined the refugees. "Take point," his mentor commanded, pivoting to deflect a flurry of icicles with the flat of the saber blade while the silver-haired teen accelerated the group's sprint for safety.

She feinted to the left as the remaining automaton charged, catching its right side with a crescent kick that sent it barrelling off-course. The cryohedron swerved away from impact with the cavern wall, flaring its spikes before wheeling towards her. It was quickly halted by two bursts of ignited gunfire, reducing it to a stagger. Severing the spikes closest to her with a clean swipe Lightning executed a blitz assault and finished the battle with a decisive stab.

Already the scent of flowers drifted along the wind, attempting to overpower the acrid stench of smouldering scrap metal. Jogging over the uneven terrain, Lightning considered the ISD's efforts to eliminate the aggressive automata skulking in the alcoves of the Subterra. Amodar's views on the Juggernaut revival project indicated that he wished for the lumbering automata to continue dwelling in the mines on the basis of dealing with fiends susceptible to fire; though, some were of the mind that the Juggernaut's state of internal decay would require several of its functions to be redesigned for alternative uses.

Warm light cascaded through gaping holes in the overhanging earth, highlighting the broken mounds of rock that littered the tunnel. Scaling the obstacles demanded no great exertion from her, yet the same could not be said for the refugees. Careful not to disrupt the precarious arrangement of the boulders, Lightning timed her leaps and bounds in accordance with the ridges least likely to compromise her momentum.

She was greeted by the sight of Hope and Anthony at the foot of a formation -the latter was leaning against the tunnel wall, hampered by the lining of dust in his throat while the silver-haired teen stood with an air of agitation. Shadows drew upon the weariness marking Hope's face; his mentor harboured the wish for him to remain on the surface once they reached the Fissure. The teen had spent the last seven months without the need to push the limits of his endurance, yet more to the point Lightning wanted him away from harm. Never again would she fail to protect the youngest of her family.

Though the murmur of echoes swept in by the winds assured that the majority of their group was in sight of those waiting at the Fissure, the former soldier questioned Hope nonetheless, "They went ahead?"

"Amanda saw the recovery squads coming in," he told her, "Jeril decided it was best for those who could to keep going."

Lightning suppressed a disdainful scoff. Regardless of whatever argument Hope could raise in defence of staying together, the students would have still followed the excavation worker. Such mentality was inevitable -the youths placed their faith in an adult of strong appearance, as opposed to a boy whose insight was beyond their immediate understanding and had previously been wanted for public execution.

Anthony cleared his throat, squinting at the sky overhead, "That cognispeeder's flying pretty close to us."

The alarm in Hope's eyes screamed through the short-lived silence, giving Lightning but a moment's notice to brace herself before spikes of ice erupted from the earth.

"Get down!" she roared, a plate of rock glancing off her shoulder blade as she took cover behind a frozen stalagmite. With its movement overshadowed by the drone of incoming aid the cryohedron had skulked above the tunnel, waiting on the group to thin out prior to attacking its primary threats. It hovered through the haze of frost and grit particles, covered in a jagged elemental shield while prowling for its quarry.

Lightning manipulated the drop in temperature, timing each step to bring her outside of the automaton's sensory range. Past the fog she focused on the beacon of orange and green cloth that took refuge in the recesses of the rock barricade, the mist of chilled breathing confirming Hope's status. His mentor sought for him to hold fast as she ghosted behind another stalagmite, coming within inches of retrieving his classmate.

It was not Anthony's broken sprawl of limbs that caused the blood to drain from Lightning's face, for she had first seen the unnatural angle of his neck. She bit back a curse, turning her undivided attention back to the cryohedron when Bhakti issued a worrisome warble.

The automaton hung in the air with the weight of an executioner's blade.

She intercepted Hope as he scrambled to reach Anthony, misinterpreting the automaton's stalling as a chance to reach the student, unaware that there was no longer a life to be saved. Lightning clambered over the hill of boulders, hoisting the silver-haired teen over the other side by the collar of his jacket as the cryohedron shuddered violently.

Bhakti's screeching whir amplified in tandem with the branching veins of molten fire splitting the automaton's shell. Utilizing the remnant AMP energy Lightning twisted in mid-leap, hurling a ruin orb at the immolating cryohedron before she skidded down to her knees, her back to the rock barrier as she shielded Hope from the blinding detonation.

The effect of ruin deflected the worst of the self-destruct blaze, yet lacking proper support the fragile, overhanging earth all but disintegrated, crushing the path they had taken from the heart of the Subterra. Smog scorched Lightning's lungs as the rumble of destruction faded; Hope pulled away from her, his trembling form unaided by the frigid air mingling with the waves of heat from the automaton's ashes.

"He was right there," smoke biting at his eyes Hope futilely bowed his head, "If I heard it sooner I-I could've..."

Reprimand boiled behind Lightning's lips. She could string out the faults to his actions, drive home that he had nearly killed himself as well; that the ruin orb could have fallen short of the automaton, throwing the counterattack back with enough force to bring down the boulders at their backs. However, in the haze of rubble, the distress Hope was experiencing called back to the former soldier's early days in the Guardian Corps; a robbery gone sour resulted in a victim peppered with bullets. Had she been a second quicker in disarming the assailant, had the bullet been a fraction of an inch farther from the lungs, perhaps her first encounter with a casualty born of her limitations would have occurred differently.

Lightning stood, the callous words failing to exist beyond her thoughts as she brought the silver-haired teen to his feet, dusted him off in search of any fractures or sprains, and continued to guide him towards the Fissure.

* * *

Once the Gatling gun components were disposed of, Falco Velocycles brooked a surprisingly decent amount of space for additional seating, or so those associated with NORA Transports had discovered when modifying several of the excavated vehicles. Both ISD and ESD patrols favoured the four-seat design and advanced engines, resulting in mass commissions of the improved cognispeeder models.

Driving in file with the recovery teams Snow found the surplus order to be particularly beneficial -the absence of one among hundreds would go unnoticed, especially if it was merely being borrowed. That every passenger approved of his reasoning was another matter.

"You're saying that you are entitled to seize control of any vehicle manufactured by your company?" Bartholomew Estheim asked sceptically.

Snow grinned, "During a family emergency? Pretty much."

Unconvinced the older man looked to Serah, who simply offered a smile that could thaw crystals, "We're almost there," she assured him, shifting in the passenger's seat as she tried to look past the thinning cloud of dust.

Personally Snow never gave much thought to fathers and the morals they stressed, yet he was more than capable of comprehending the drive to their actions; upon receiving the information that his son was among those still trapped in the Subterra, Bartholomew had abandoned an investment meeting concerning archaeological ventures in the Yaschas Massif, while Sazh remained in Niflheim to shield Dajh from the mayhem of the site and souls therein.

Before they had gone to collect Bartholomew the pilot imparted that, shortly after Lightning was called away from a lunch arrangement, her cell had fallen out of signal range. Though Serah wore a smile for the sake of Hope's father, Snow could read the spectre of unease about her. They both knew their sister could hold her own, but it was only natural for them to worry over her despite knowing that, if anything, their concern should be spent towards anyone who was unlucky or unwise enough to be in the way of Lightning's objective.

Coming within sight of the Fissure the burly man glared at a coil of grey smoke set apart from the ruddy haze, funnelling up from a collapse in the neck of the tunnel leading out of the mines. The bulk of the cognispeeders circled above the earthen scar; culminating in the disorientation of several drivers when a certain one of their number confidently veered down to settle next to the paramedic transports. Parking the vehicle Snow walked around the front of the Velocycle, effortlessly looking over the heads of ISD and medical personnel as he stood beside his fiancé and Bartholomew.

The burly man gave a relieved chuckle upon seeing a shock of colour pierce the grit cloud, "Just outside of the cavern," he reported. Serah's thin shoulders relaxed, though the older man frowned at the crowd that stood in their path. Taking note of this Snow lead them forward and proceeded to exhibit one of his finer qualities.

"Step aside! Make way! Next of kin coming through!"

Even those farthest from the trio made haste to move aside, their commentary dissuaded as Serah politely punctuated her intended's booming insistence with the standard 'Don't mind us' or 'Sorry about your toes'. Once Lightning came within sight Snow gave her a hearty wave, his good cheer faltering upon spying a stern-looking individual -a miner, perhaps, directing a pair of ISD patrolmen towards the former soldier and her charge.

"What happened down there?" the first patrolman demanded, his comrade opting to loiter a short distance behind them.

"Save it for the civilians assigned to your jurisdiction," Lightning spat, ushering her apprentice ahead of her.

Weaving past the lingering personnel Bartholomew called out to his son, "Hope!"

The silver-haired teen was jolted out of his forlorn silence at the sound of the older man's concern, the sudden response of running towards his father misinterpreted by the patrolman as a sign of liability. The patrolman made to wrench Hope back yet subsequently stumbled back as Lightning's elbow became acquainted with his solar plexus.

Predicting the second patrolman's response Snow approached the man in two strides, "Wouldn't want to go and try anything stupid," he advised coldly, towering over the patrolman until his hand no longer rested by the rifle at his side.

Snow fell back to his family; Bartholomew had a hand on his son's shoulder, already thanking Lightning for her aid. The former soldier was slightly distant, still watching over Hope as Serah gently fussed about his most prominent scrapes. Agitation coursed through Snow's veins. There was too much commotion here, too many skittish perspectives and not enough decency to let a father appreciate the safety of his son.

They migrated to the Velocycle, a fleeting look from his sister clarifying the need for them to return home if Hope was ever to begin healing his mind.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** I'm sorry this is a short one, but again, I'm wary of Vanille's dialogue. xD While the ages at which Fang and Vanille were orphaned are never specified, I personally consider Fang to have at least some memory of her family, whereas Vanille lost hers when she was very young; hence the strength of her attachments to Fang and, centuries later, the closest thing she ever had to a father-figure.

* * *

6

"_Fang, do you remember your father?"_

"_Depends on what you mean. I can hardly see his face, even at the back of my mind. I'll never forget his voice, though. Always happy, come rain or shine."_

"_Hmm, I'm thinking more... how they're meant to act and respond, that sort of thing."_

"_Responding's pretty straightforward: 'Yes', 'No', 'Maybe later', 'Your mother will flay us both if she catches us messing around with the Wyvern fledglings again'."_

"_How do they go about showing their love for their children? Not minding when the kids are acting silly would count for that, right?"_

"_Since you put it that way... Dads are to Managarmr as mums are to highland bears."_

"_They chase their young out of the den once they're of age?"_

"_In a way -but what I'm saying is that they will always fight for the wellbeing of their children, even at the cost of their own lives."_

"_Now that I can definitely see..."_

"_Anything else?"_

"_What?"_

"_Let's hear your ideas on the matter."_

"_I-I don't, but -I haven't got a clue!"_

"_I've all the time in the world to wait on you, Missy."_

"_Oh, they'll sound ridiculous..."_

"_Give it a go."_

"_Promise to be nice?"_

"_And here I thought you knew me like the back of your hand."_

"_Okay, okay. Would it make sense for a father to try his best to make you smile when you're feeling sad, even if he's feeling a little down himself?"_

"_I'd say that's pretty spot-on."_

"_And if there's people around you who are saying things -in an indirect way, but things that make you upset, would he guide you away and call that talk rubbish?"_

"_If he's not much of a fighter. My old man never shied from giving a good thrashing to anyone talking scat about our clan." _

"_Let's say the situation demands that he doesn't want to scare the child, or attract any unwanted attention."_

"_I thought we were talking about child_ren_?"_

"_Isn't that what I said?"_

"_... Go on."_

"_Say the children wronged the father in some way, and he... he was mad, because what they did caused him grief. Would he still protect the children, if they put themselves in danger, even after what they did?"_

"_Why bother asking me when you've got a textbook example on your hands?"_

"_Like I said, it's ridiculous. If you can't go and face it now or later, there's... really no point in dwelling over it... right?"_


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Before I ramble on, I owe Truth, as always, great thanks for being patient and catching the stuff I glean over, as well as an appreciative shout-out to the readers, subscribers and reviewers still out there or just tuning in.

Compared to previous chapters, this one might seem silly and out of place, but it's meant to be a breather of sorts. I always loved the scenes where the guys were kidding around with one another, like after Hope attains Alexander or following Vanille and Fang's reminiscence at the Massif. Besides, nothing can truly be kicked into high gear until Sazh's perspective is explored. ;3

* * *

7

Dinner at the Farron residence had evolved from an occasion of coincidence to a practise that occurred twice a week, or whenever it was possible for the former l'Cie to correspond with the after-school arrangement. While the collecting of ingredients and setting of the table was an unassigned role and thus welcome to all and any volunteers, it was general knowledge that Sazh and Serah were in command of the kitchen once the recipe requirements were met. Clean up was a group effort and, bar the earlier days in which the traffic of plates and leftovers was rather hectic, was seen through with efficiency.

Rinsing out one of several glasses Sazh noticed Lightning relieve Dajh of three out of five plates precariously balanced in his small hands. In the midst of drying off the utensils, Serah nudged the pilot's elbow in silent reference to her tally of instances that proved her older sister was putting more of an effort into caring for Dajh outside of convenience. Though a good sport in going along with the younger Farron's count, Sazh personally and proudly believed the aloof fighter he had met at the Purge station had since expressed compassion to the point in which it was a revived trait of her character.

Granted, she was still as much of a kid as Snow and Hope, yet they had similarly matured in their own way. The self-proclaimed Hero was willing to atone for faults wrought from his well-intentioned actions, whereas the silver-haired youngster had overcome a crushing loss and as a result became a selfless individual.

He had not fought shoulder to shoulder with Serah during the fight for survival, but a proper introduction to one another in the aftermath of Ragnarok swiftly led to two to be on friendly terms. However, for all the kindness and optimism displayed by the young woman, Sazh harboured an odd sense of concern for her. Some time ago she had confided to him that she felt restless, for lack of better description, since awakening from stasis. His immediate response was suggesting that it was merely an after-effect of completing her Focus in such a short period of time. Hitherto the pilot had been considering whether or not said restlessness was more applicable to interference born of a barmagic ailment; all the same, he could not say for certain.

On the note of worry, Sazh was infinitely glad to see Hope was well into recovery in the week following the Mah'habara Misfortune. Between Bartholomew and the former l'Cie, they were triumphant in casting the withering, melancholic mantle from Hope's shoulders; to see the teen smile and laugh once more on a regular basis served to lessen the worst of Sazh's unease, for even the slightest signs of improvement in the shell-shocked demeanour he had left the Subterra with were better than none whatsoever.

Presently Hope was scrutinizing a persistent remnant of pasta sauce adhered to a suds-flecked plate. Surrendering the glass to Serah, the pilot rapped his knuckles against the dish, where it reflected the silver-haired teen's scraped chin. "You've got a long way to go before it comes to stubble, kid," he teased.

Returning the cleaned utensils to their rightful places Snow clapped his hand on Sazh's shoulder, "Says the old timer," he pointed out.

The pilot raised his hands defensively, "What can I say?" he replied defensively, "Some goatees ain't meant to last."

Snow shrugged lamely, "Fair enough."

Enlisted by Lightning to speed up the process of transitioning leftovers to appropriately sized containers, Dajh had caught snatches of conversation and thus was his curiosity fuelled by Snow's faux lamentation regarding the aforementioned facial hair. "What happened to yours?" the boy asked.

"Here's the play-by-play," the burly man began, sauntering to the side of the refrigerator. "Three months ago, I'm walking around -just minding my own business... then _Light_ comes along."

"He's really asking for it this time," Hope murmured to Serah, though gave no indication of making an outright interruption. Both kept any further commentary to themselves as Dajh grew anxious at the dramatic pause, "What did she do?" he inquired. Hina burrowed into his hair, alarmed by the dire tone of the story.

"Well," Snow continued, slinging a dishtowel over his left shoulder, "She gave me this _exact_ look, and said in this _exact_ voice-"

"'Shave that creature off your face before it gets mistaken for a Mark mission.'"

Serah, Hope and Dajh dissolved into laughter at Lightning's recitation. Retrieving the towel, the former soldier took the liberty of whipping the back of Snow's head before he had the chance to duck for cover. Sazh simply grinned at their antics, retiring to the assumption that the 'no headshots after dinner' truce was no longer in effect.

With the last plate ready for rinsing Hope hovered impatiently near Serah. The pilot recalled that the teens had been putting their heads together over a new upgrade for Bhakti, something about capturing images of Gran Pulse-language runes for deciphering. "I'll catch up with you," the young woman told her accomplice as she still had to attend to a handful of yet to be dried dishes, though Sazh motioned for her to go along with Hope.

"I've got it covered," he told her, receiving a smile of thanks before the two youths strode towards the living room where the robot waited. Noting their departure Dajh looked up to Lightning with hopeful eyes, giving her little other choice than to dismiss him.

The boy and his Chocobo scampered after the teenagers, the fading footsteps awakening a scar etched across his heart. It seemed like the perfect scenario of 'kids running off to mess around', yet its incompletion was sorely apparent. There should be three teenagers, another head for Hina to perch upon; an incomparable liveliness that graced the presence of memories.

For many years Sazh was under the impression he was fated to lose those who were dear to him. Nine years past he would have never imagined such a fearful thought to rule the life ahead of him. Back then he had been piloting long-distance routes in Cocoon; he had been energetic and clumsy, the latter trait often leading him to misplace odds and ends from his pockets either when cleaning out the airship aisles or coming to and from the cockpit.

A flight from Eden to Nautilus would have resulted in the loss of his Gil card had a thoughtful young woman not stayed behind and for the ensuing hour and a half aid the ultimately successful search for the card. He repaid Nemri Adleir's assistance with an evening meal, during which she proposed that he be her guide to the 'Nautilus know-how'. The next two years seem to fall into blissful place; by the time it came to the ceremony of rings and vows, they meant the world to one another.

Within months of bringing their son into the world Nemri felt fatigued more often than not. Ever bright-eyed she assured him it was nothing more than the flu, and afterwards all was well.

Within months of Dajh's third birthday his beloved lay in eternal peace. The cause was said to be an arrhythmic blight, yet the medical terminology therein fell, with mourning, to the unspoken rumination of Sazh's self. He needed to be happy for the sake of their child.

When Nabaat spirited the ray of light out of his life, despair awaited him with open arms. Too willingly would he have succumbed to it had the sprightly epitome of persistence not been at his side from the Vile Peaks to the cells of The Palamecia.

Three years gone by, with only one dear to his heart still present and accounted for. Fate sought to snuff out the embodiment of his reason to live -with the trials of l'Cie, he realized it was his to obey or defy. Were Nemri here this day, she would take up arms with him in the fight for the survival of their own; for Dajh and Vanille.

Wrapping up his task Sazh dried off his hands and masked a smile over his turmoil and made way for the living room. Trailing after him, Snow and Lightning continued to trade good-hearted jibes, the latter wielding a triumphant smirk.

The couch closest to the window supported a conspiratorial huddle. Dajh and Hope sat on either side of Serah while Bhakti obediently idled at her feet. A pair of cables linked to the robot's ocular hardware fed images into a thin, hand-held screen in Hope's grasp, from which Serah copied down various lines of Pulsian script down in a notebook on her lap. Sazh took a seat at an armchair, promptly sharing the space with Dajh and Hina. Snow plunked down at Serah's unoccupied side while Lightning stood behind the back of the couch to get an ideal view of the decoding notes.

"Some of the vowels are a bit tricky to figure out," the younger Farron explained to the arrived trio, "Though I wouldn't know where to start if you forgot everything Vanille and Fang said."

Snow took a closer glance at the runes on the screen. "These are all from Oerba, then?" he inquired.

Serah nodded, "They're inscribed in the memory drive, but we're not sure how to replicate the design."

The pilot scratched his chin; as much as he saw the logic in archiving the existing data, he was uncertain as to where the teenagers intended to start looking for runes outside of Oerba. With this in mind, he addressed Hope, "You planning to check out the Archaeopolis?"

"Maybe," he replied, though an encouraging look from Serah brought him to sit up straight and speak in truth, "I want to run a scan of the Subterra."

Exchanging a doubtful glance with Snow, Sazh nonetheless remained silent while Lightning calmly questioned the proposed action, "Are you sure you're up for that?"

"I don't know," Hope admitted, frowning in thought, "But something wasn't right about the landslide. It happened when Atomos was miles away. It didn't seem natural."

Sazh narrowed his eyes. The abrupt death of civilians -of _children_ was never natural, yet it remained an unfortunate reality in situations where time was not allied with those who possessed the power to recover them. However, that the Subterra fal'Cie was supposedly free of fault was a mixed blessing -defeating one of the cursed entities was hardly a jaunt in the park, yet it was comparatively preferred to having next to nothing in deducing what outside force was responsible for the collapse.

Dajh looked to Hope with sudden interest, "You heard the screaming, too?"

"During the quake?" the silver-haired teen said, greeted with further confusion when the boy shook his head.

"Around lunchtime," Dajh clarified, an almost pensive weight in his voice, "It was kinda quiet, but it sounded lots like the noise the ruins in Bodhum would always make. But Mister Snow said that there was a monster living in the ruins, so it coulda been another sort of monster."

The scratching of notes had ceased, giving way to a thunderous hush. Sazh rested his chin heavily on his knuckles, careworn lines drawn tight across his forehead. Perhaps any other family would have waved away the boy's comment, thinking it a flight of fancy. With Nemri's insight living on in their son it was clearly, cruelly evident that Dajh knew the fal'Cie were never spoken of as a laughing matter.

He watched Snow envelop Serah's free hand with his own, anchoring her to the support surrounding her. The young woman longed to speak in assurance to her company, to remind that Anima was a spectre of history and her brethren of Cocoon were frozen away from choosing souls to do their bidding.

Silence endured, for with or without brands, no l'Cie could be mistaken when one of their own heard the call of a fal'Cie preceding the attack upon its quarry.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Thank Truth for rewarding patience with double-updates. :D

* * *

8

Dawn watered down the night sky to cerulean ripples, ebbing at the strength with which the stars shone in warning of the day that would melt them from sight. Lightning leant against the frame of the living room window, abandoning her observation of the fading stars and directing her waking eyes to the stubborn shadows cloaking the far-off mountains. Flocks of Svarog glided in patrol of their nesting grounds, the waning silver light lining their steady wings.

She revisited the weathered slopes whenever memories bled into dreams; mottled lichen carpeted the roots of swaying broadleaf trees, crawling out of the shade to drape over sheer drops in interwoven layers. Before the crevasses housing the broods were broken slopes, serving as natural steps for the yearling Wyverns to stumble into their first flight.

Some nights were clearer than others, yet more often than not nuances of the mountain range would blur in and out of focus. Twice now she debated the presence of civilization's corroding monuments; both times she scorned such contemplation. Admitting to a lapse in memory was out of the question. She had ventured to the grounds only once before; even then, the bulk of her attention lay with the goals of protecting her comrades, fighting her Focus and keeping track of the brand. No physical force prevented her from setting forth on a week's excursion, to plunge headfirst into the maze of danger and brilliance and clarify what her mind threatened to discard.

Inevitably, Lightning refrained from retracing the path to the grounds, by her own accord. Sensibility supported this lack of action, for she was without an ally who that was familiar with the diverse terrain, someone who could ascend the perilous ridge with brazen stride, who could take approach and leave of the Wyverns with near intuitive alertness.

All the same, solace prompted her to remember.

For years she judged her actions in accordance to how relevant they were to the mission facing her at the time. Maybe at some point before they scaled the mountainside, she started to stop herself from tacking on excuses to every little thought, every little thing that was not directly influenced by her goal. _'Live a little'_, she was told, as they crept closer to the Svarog's nests. Had the headstrong Oerban said such a thing earlier, Lightning would have surely cast it to disregard. Time was of the essence; survival was their sole motivation.

That the parents of the hatchlings were out hunting or slumbering under the sun provided little relief. They would have to return or wake eventually. By Fang's lead they pressed on to an alcove partially shielded by a curtain of lichen, leaving it undisturbed as they stole into the shadows of the nest, away from the eyes of a sentry Wyvern.

During their trek Lightning remained guarded whereas it took mere minutes for her ally to make light of the fact they were trespassing in the den of a feral beast. There had been five or four hatchlings, no taller than the idle sheep inhabiting the Steppe. Clumsily the creatures waddled towards Fang, who crouched down and allowed them to determine her a harmless visitor. By all accounts the former soldier found it surreal to see the vulnerable beginnings of these airborne reapers; more so that the headstrong Oerban treated them as though they were oversized, yet to be weaned, pups.

Lightning followed in suit, a bemused smile at the hatchling's antics gradually taking the place of her initial frown. There they remained until midday, when Fang deemed the parents would make an appearance. In the nesting cleft, with piebald gums gnawing at her shoulder guard, the former soldier felt at ease. Very nearly did she label this peace of mind as a means of slowing down the brand's progression, but the truth of the matter won out then as it did in the present. She trusted Fang with her welfare, much to the relief of her tensed nerves.

Pulling her coat tighter around her shoulders she strained to see the handful of stars attempting to linger in spite of the growing sunlight. With the hollow greeting of a new dawn, she dipped her chin away from the window.

"Hang in there, you hear me?"

The words came in a whisper, strong and certain even in the knowledge that they would go unheard and without response. Her allies, though slumbering, were still among the living. To insult them with doubt was unthinkable.

Falling into her morning pattern Lightning relocated the mail from the doormat to the kitchen counter, a quick scan revealing nothing worth noting. She went about preparing tea for herself and Serah, ignoring a slight, raw ache that followed any reflection of the recalled dreams and revived memories. A gentle creak sounded from the floorboards, announcing that the rest of the household was beginning to wake as she set the kettle to boil.

Engaged in a leisurely yawn Snow greeted her with a lazy wave. His habit of going shirtless for the duration of the night and early morning did not present itself as a problem. If anything, Snow took Lightning's tolerance in good jest, wondering aloud that had he visited the sister's home in this state, all those months ago, how many seconds would pass before he was thrown out the door.

Prior to rummaging through the fridge the burly man procured a glass from the cupboard, aware of the look the former soldier sent his way while she set out a pair of mugs for the tea. The trend of drinking milk from the carton was met with uniform disapproval, leading to swift reform. In a similar vein, the exaggeration of Lightning's war with culinary endeavours was addressed; as evidenced with the kettle, there were a few exceptions that did not result in burnt water.

Snow knocked back the contents of the glass in one gulp, the light from the interior of the fridge washing over his torso. The silver scars of Palumpolum marked the right side of his ribcage, though he remained unfazed by this, proudly advertising the 'wounds of war' at any given opportunity.

Folding her arms over her chest Lightning tilted her head towards him, "Late night?"

The burly man shook his head, recalling the previous night of escorting Hope and the Katzroy family to their homes, "Old man Estheim got talking to Sazh about that Massif excavation. Could've sworn the kids were sleeping on their feet by the time they were done."

"You walked?" she chuckled.

Setting the glass in the sink Snow grinned, "I keep telling you -Mr. E thinks I'm giving off this 'vehicle theft' vibe or something."

Lightning shrugged, "I can't imagine where he'd get an idea like that, what with you being the positive role model."

"Search me," he said, fending off his sister's good-natured sarcasm.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence; across the ceiling stretched a square of sunlight, gilding the window frame and cabinet handles. Washing off the glass in his possession, Snow placed it aside to dry and leafed through the mail, though a separate collection of papers on the counter summoned his interest.

Frustration flashed across the burly man's face, preceding the departure of humour from his eyes as he regarded the Pulsian runes. "We could head back to Oerba," he thought aloud, "It's bound to have something about reversing the stasis, even if it isn't not much."

A fervent, almost excitable determination rose with his voice as he turned to Lightning, "We've kept them waiting long enough. For all we know, those villages could have all the answer -even if it means we have to haul them out of there-"

"They have the weight of a world on their shoulders," Lightning countered, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, "This isn't a situation where we can charge in without a plan and pray for victory. Who knows? We might end up making it worse for them."

"Can it get any worse?" Snow argued, "If Dajh is right about that fal'Cie-"

She pinned him with flinty ferocity, "As if it would get the chance."

The kettle gurgled softly, as though quailed by the air of its surroundings. Turning her back on the burly man Lightning tended to the mugs, unaware of the quiet concern that fell heavy on his heart. He was far too familiar with that particular glare, one that permitted no indecision on her part or intervention of any who tried to convince her out of the oath accompanying those frigid eyes.

Some days Snow wished for simplicity, to adopt Serah's habit of sleeping well into dawn, rest his chin atop her head and just forget the world. Always he would cast the vain wish aside, for he knew that he needed to be there for his entire family, more so when the act of shutting others out took a stab at returning. Walking to the hall, Snow paused and, over his shoulder, called to her in earnest.

"Sis, don't forget who's got your back."

Once his footsteps wandered out of her hearing range Lightning breathed a ghost of a sigh. The love she held for her family was undisputed as the speed with which they would rush to her aid at the drop of a hat; willing to follow any path she cut into and square off with struggles therein until the bitter end. With the blessing of loved ones came responsibility for their safety and happiness, for the sake of which she would not allow her battles to risk tearing them apart.

While the Svarog hatchlings of this year were grown and their nesting grounds turning with the seasons, Lightning's dreams finished on the same, jarring memory; in the vile Cradle, where scarlet shackles suspended her ally by the wrists, slipping in and out of consciousness as her limp body convulsed with each timed, hellish electrocution.

Swallowing back the bile in her throat, the former soldier bit hard into her lower lip, her nails biting her palm as she clenched a fist at her side.

So long as she lived, no Maker-born entity would ever again bring Fang so close to an audience with death.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** Not to seem sadistic, but at this point, I'd have to say this is my favourite chapter.

* * *

9

"_Fang, if you tried speaking to her-"_

"_Oh, that would've gone over well, 'Even though I had a hand of sorts in turning your kid sister into a l'Cie, why don't we make peace over a bite to eat?'."_

"_Just think-"_

"_I'm done with that, Vanille. I had my chance; I had all the way from the Ark to Eden to give her a hint. I rest knowing she's got a fine life ahead of her, people to look out for."_

"_But who's got her back?"_

"_Look-"_

"_Sazh and Mister Estheim have their sons, Dajh and Hope have their fathers, Serah and Snow have one another. You know -you say you don't but _you know_ that Light would never rally them to follow her on a hunt or something to the ends of Gran Pulse. She'd never want to be responsible for hurting them."_

"_You're missing the point. They wouldn't let her go it alone-"_

"_And what if she pushed them away to keep them from coming?"_

"_... If I were to go out on a limb and pretend there was some way I could be there for her, who's to say she wouldn't tell me to shove off?"_

"_Not a soul. You do owe her, after all."_

"_Now hold on-"_

"_When Bahamut first came to you, she stepped right in front-"_

"_-Of _us both_-"_

"_But I don't recall her offering me a hand up, do you?"_

"_You'll need more than that, Missy-"_

"_When we flew out of the Ark, who followed after your free-fall?"_

"_In case you've forgotten, funnyman could've taken that shot just as easily-"_

"_A-ha, but he was piloting!"_

"Fine_, two strikes."_

"_Oh, don't give me that scoff-"_

"_Why the hell not? All this doesn't hold a candle to how we couldn't prevent them from falling for that last trick in the book. They thought they'd gone Cie'th, of all things! The kind of nightmares you'd have from that... it's unimaginable for us, Vanille."_

"_They came back-"_

"_By their own power-"_

"_-and she retrieved your will to fight." _

"_Even if I could go back and tell her... who's to say it'd work out in the end? Sure, she's entranced by our world -but maybe not to the point in which she'd see herself with... For crying out loud, were she born during the War, I would've gutted her on the spot-"_

"_Fang."_

"_And don't get me started on-" _

"Fang! _We both know how hard you're trying to shove aside the truth. What really matters is that Light always, _always_ woke up and saw you the same way she did when she fell asleep. She saw someone she could rely on, someone she could trust with her own life -someone she would not allow to give up on herself!"_

"_That's the thing, Vanille. I'll never know if she wouldn't give up on more than me, more than her... Maybe 'us' is something she'd never give the time of day. Either way, it's not like I deserve it."_

"_You can't say things like that! She still talks to you -she's still reaching out for you. That has to count for something!"_

"_She... it's just confusion." _

"_I don't understand-"_

"_Confusion. That's all it ever was. It's all she'll have to remember me by until someone comes along, someone who can be constant and dear to her in this lifetime. That is the truth, and I... I've ages to mull over any pain I caused her because of it."_


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** With all the support and general awesomeness of the souls out there, I wish I could give more of a worthwhile update in thanks. However, with finals and graduation fast approaching, I'm afraid chapter delays will be more frequent than not for the next few weeks -still, I'll do all in my power to keep all of you from having to stretch your patience too much.

* * *

10

Sorangel Torres tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear and rested her hand on the patio table, the midday sunlight filtering through the quarter-full glass to cast tawny diamonds over her fingers. The long hours of the Mah'habara Misfortune had taken their toll on many ISD personnel, whether in the form of recovering and recording the dead or informing their loved ones of the loss. As one who was used to picking off her targets from a distance, Sorangel experienced a somewhat rocky adaptation into coming face-to-face with civilians. Several times she had relied on the commissioned helm to hide her eyes, to conceal the nuances of emotion that otherwise threatened to compromise her part in stabilizing a situation or deliverance of orders.

Upon being unmasked along with her fellow Corps affiliates, sight, smell and sound had become clearer, allowing her to take in the exact disparity and displacement of those around her. The state of Cocoon's surviving population gave her the foundation from which she sought to craft a collected, direct approach when in the line of duty. She needed to encourage the people to steel themselves in the wake of tragedy, all while ensuring their protectors had any incident under control.

Rhyan would have laughed at her logic, as was the general nature of younger siblings. To him, she was always and forever the sister who could never hold a frown or curb a gut reaction. With the passing years his teasing had lessened to gentle ribbing, though Sorangel took pride during their childhood by reminding that she was always and forever two years closer to higher education than he was.

Anticipating the approach of a waiter she dismissed her nostalgia before the barbs that followed it could lash out. She smiled her thanks at the young attendant, taking a sip of the refilled glass while the lunch crowd swarmed about, laughing and living without worry.

When Rhyan enlisted in the Wide-Area Response Brigade, he had gone out the door with the advice of his sister at heart and their parent's contempt at his heels. Her little brother dreamed of being one step closer to the sky, nearly scaring the wits out of their father in the early years of climbing up to the roof or scaling ornate trees -the humble beginnings of his longing to glide freely through clouds glowing in Phoenix's brilliant rays. His elders wanted him to take up mother's example of a respectable occupation by becoming a stuffy pen-pusher, yet Sorangel felt it was her responsibility to stand up for him, encourage him to pursue what he loved and shine on in the hearts of Cocoon's people.

The sweet liquor hung sourly at the back of her throat. Looking away from the drink, she took refuge in the boundless expanse of wilderness visible from the Helicon's patio arrangement. Had the upheaval of Pulse l'Cie and lack of fal'Cie mercy never occurred, perhaps she would still be on strained speaking terms with her older relatives. On the days when she summoned the composure to try and reach out to them, she still sensed the attempts at discreet offhand glances; for they had wished a future of secure standing for Rhyan, not one ruled by the unpredictable fancy of his heart.

Before the fall of Cocoon, she found scarce reason to regret the advice she had given her sibling. He was no longer forced to dilute his exuberance -whenever they found the time outside of their schedules to visit, there was something different about him each time, whether a smile she had not seen or a retelling of he and his comrades' humorous antics. It was a relief to see him fulfil his aspirations, despite the occasional misadventures that arose from the eventual tradition of buying drinks on the house in celebration of another year of good living.

Sorangel loosened her ponytail, relieving the tension spreading over her scalp. She simply wanted her brother to be happy; fate saw fit to repay her wishes with an empty eulogy and the knowledge that he had spent his last hours shambling under the burden of crystals fused to his body, inside and out. Maybe his macabre demise would not have caused her such grief if it came of an accident, a collision or malfunction of engines. However, there were too many coincidental factors for her to leave Rhyan in the past.

After the questionable destruction of the Palamecia, the feared l'Cie, apparently dormant for centuries, had vanished from all radars after weeks of holding broadcasts and society as a whole in the grip of terror. Rhyan's reaction to Raines' promotion did trouble her, for Primarch Dysley was wise in his decisions, but the chaos that broke out from the sabotaged Prix event resulted in her neglect towards this line of thought. If she had reached out to her brother, he might have held back from the fray...

Still, there were l'Cie and fal'Cie to be considered. The latter had left defenceless civilians to contest with the likes of feral Pulsian beasts and possessed the power to brand any of the lives they had tended to since the creation of Cocoon. In that respect, the ancient entities had millions of people to choose from, further displacing the settlement of blame.

The ISD affiliate would not know where to start when it came to comprehending what the four individuals had endured, to rise above the odds and ultimately buy time for the Corps and PSICOM alike to evacuate as many citizens as possible before Phoenix faded out of vibrant existence. In spite of the awe she held for the former l'Cie's tenacity and prowess of magic that greatly surpassed the substance of manadrives, Sorangel still kept from investing the better part of her trust in them.

Absorbed in her thoughts she slipped a tip under the glass and made her way to the café proper to pay for both drinks. Admiration would not bring her brother back, nor soothe the disappointment she felt towards herself, of her hesitance in figuring what needed to be done, what could be done, for him to rest in peace.

It was better late than never to come to terms with those who carried an inkling of responsibility for the events that lead to her failure, as a sister and confidant, to protect Rhyan.

* * *

While his opinion of damp environments was blunt, Sazh's view of the winding, uneven cavern buried deep within the walls of the Ascending Scarp was scoring a soundly negative effect on his otherwise favourable look on Gran Pulse's geological formations.

As the specifics of archaeological labour did not exactly attract his undivided attention, the pilot had paid more attention to Bartholomew's description of the objects scavenged from the main tunnel, as opposed to the specifics of how the site was stumbled across in the first place. Said relics consisted mostly of surprisingly intact sheets of metal, further indicating that aspects of the Pulsian method of forging could be adopted for the benefit of airship and building construction. Out of concern that the sudden uncertainty of subterranean foundations was not limited to those of Atomos' design, excavation activity had come to a cautious halt, in which case any wandering individual was free from the risk of disrupting equipment or Golems if they were to pick up where the teams on site had left off.

Sloshing through the knee-high water Sazh paused to receive the call picked up by the communicator clipped to his ear, infinitely glad to have his mind taken off the miserable state of his boots.

"Hey, Mr. Kat- uh, Sazh, do you need us to send down another flare?"

A fire spell was nestled in the pilot's hand, stretching only far enough to illuminate the five feet ahead of him in a lantern-like aura; the pyrotechnics were a necessity should he come across a larger extension of the cavern. "Still got the first round on deck," he informed Maqui, "Keep them ready, though, just in case."

The unyielding loyalty of the Bodhum youths effectively outweighed the frequency in which the pilot felt he was bound to be trampled by their enthusiasm. By no means fond of secrecy, Sazh nonetheless felt it was best for his current exploration to remain unknown to the general public. The last thing he wanted was to give people the opportunity to fear that the former enemies of humanity had sinister intentions regarding the stability of underground mazes.

Along with the promise of keeping his venture under wraps, Gadot and Maqui were quick to propose that they accompany him on the basis of preventing fiends from taking his lead into what could prove to be a dead end. Grateful as he was for their assistance, Sazh still had his reservations about their tendency to leap headfirst into any sign of danger -when time was available, he would encourage them to look into the continued research of surveillance prototypes.

Returning to the consideration of his surroundings, Sazh crinkled his nose. The thick reek of mildew bore down like a dense fog; coupled with the oddly acrid taste he was breathing in, the pilot felt as though he were trudging through an airship pulled from the depths of Lake Bresha, prior to Anima's awakening. Though the murky water obscured all sight of the cavern floor, trial and error had unveiled an unnaturally exact span of the two inch-deep dips in the otherwise flat ground. It unnerved him much like an echo of a memory he could not bring to light.

"Me? Catch a break? Get outta here..." he muttered aloud, stretching his tired arms. Shadows jumped at the corner of his eye, prompting him to instinctively reel back before swinging his hand closer to the hilt of the Procyon at his right side, tentatively holding out the fire orb in his left palm.

The shadows retreated, uncovering a series of shallow ledges spared from submersion. Sazh pressed on with renewed vigour, "Now we're in business," he sighed, slumping down on the topmost ledge. Propping his soaked feet on a shelf a few inches shy of the stagnant pool, the pilot frowned, for the sound of his boot soles scraping against the stone carried out farther than he was comfortable with. Transitioning the fire spell to one of the Procyons, he withdrew the pistol and stood, swiftly adjusting the flare ammunition.

At the sound of the shot his cell trilled to life, going unattended for four, long rings before the pilot collected his bearings, his eyes never leaving the illuminated structure as Gadot's voice rang out.

"You run into any trouble?"

"That's one way of putting it," Sazh replied, his stomach sinking with the flare as it continued its blazing plunge into the threshold of the Ark.


	11. Chapter 11

11

Televised accounts and radio broadcasts continued to dispute the exact timing of the second quake, yet the general public responded to the news of its location with marked relief. Plans for an airship docking bay to be built near the Archylte Steppe had been recently approved; without a set time to begin construction, architects and workers were still in the midst of being commissioned for the site. Therefore, the land designated for the proposed hangar was the sole casualty of the geographical fault.

To a certain handful of individuals who had reason to believe this disruption, like its predecessor, did not owe its cause to natural occurrence, the update served to worsen their grim observations. Though the distance between the two quakes was taken into consideration, the former l'Cie did not want to compromise more lives by hesitating to rule out any potential pattern in the fal'Cie's destructive appearances. By that extent, they sought to keep their speculation of the immortal enigma under wraps; panicking civilians were the foremost hindrance they could do without.

Thusly unaware of the tremor's true roots, Bartholomew fit neatly into the category of people who, while grateful for the absence of fatality, wished for future risk of life to be preventable altogether.

"This is hardly a time to dismiss precaution," he grumbled, relocating a stack of files to his briefcase, "Now more than ever should we be manufacturing devices that can predict the slightest sign of these disasters."

Hovering in the main foyer of the Estheim household, Snow attempted to find a place for his footwear on the boot mat. Serah and Hope were waiting on him, but his efforts to accommodate his boots among the daintier likes of runners and sneakers were distracted by the topic at hand. "We'd need more than a week to get going on that," he supplied, taking note of what seemed to be a search conducted among the various items cluttering an end table.

"Assuming the earthquakes are to continually take place within days of one another," narrowing his eyes, Bartholomew took a step back from the table, his dedication to the conversation waning. "In any case, it's best to start the project sooner than later."

In light of catching on as to what the missing object was, Snow abandoned discretion and crowded his boots onto the mat, "Up top," he informed Bartholomew, gesturing to the crown of his head. With a word of thanks the older man returned his misplaced glasses to their rightful place and retrieved his briefcase en route to the door. The transition into being punctual for both work and family matters had come a long way, with setbacks and disruptions becoming rare sightings.

"Take care," Bartholomew bade him, the hurried schedule of the day allowing the burly man to give little more than a wave before the door shut behind the older man. Taking no offense, Snow proceeded to the room at the far end of the hall, where Hope and Serah were finishing the instalment of speakers on either side of the laptop placed on a worn desk. Perpendicular to the desk was a solitary mattress, at the foot of which lay the hand-held screen previously used to decipher the Oerban runes.

Snow examined the data rendered map sprawled across the screen, his attention quickly summoned to a blinking, neon green icon that was in the midst of braving the network of passages. "Look at this guy go," he laughed, marvelling at the traveller's steady pace.

"He's got a few centuries worth of energy to burn," Hope shrugged, bringing up a window on the computer screen that gave the trio a direct feed to Bhakti's view of the mines.

As the couple lingered behind the desk chair while Hope went about mending the grainy resolution of the caverns, Snow's thoughts drifted to a recurring concern, something that had grown more prominent as of late. In the days following the defeat of Orphan, Serah had confided to him of a peculiar restlessness that vexed her -a feeling she couldn't shake. They had debated its nature at length, yet never precisely found what grounds it could potentially spring from. Without a brand to return to or an Eidolon to house, her teardrop crystal had lost its rich cobalt colour, existing now in a hauntingly ornamental fashion. Recently, with Serah's shoulders tensing and knuckles blanching in physical manifestation of agitation, Snow was at a loss with how to be of aid, of support beyond hoping that, once the threat of the fal'Cie was determined and dealt with, his fiancé could be at ease.

A gentle nudge brought him out of rumination and to the inevitability of being swept along in the glow of Serah's smile. He returned the sentiment; further silent communication of endearment was interrupted by Hope's musing.

"How long until the ESD checks out the quake site?" he pondered aloud, having cleaned up the video transmission.

"Light's heading out on reconnaissance tomorrow," Snow told him, continuing in afterthought, "Is she still flying solo?"

Serah shook her head, "Someone from the ISD requested to go with her," Inspired by the mention of her sister, she cast Hope a thoughtful look, "You wouldn't happen to have any analects around here?"

"All I had was a sermon -I gave it to Light a while ago," he replied, his eyes alight with curiosity, "Did she find a link to reversing the stasis?"

It pained Serah to diminish Hope's enthusiasm, yet she could not deny the truth. "Not yet," With an assuring pat on the shoulder she added, "Still, I'm sure she's close."

"It'd be great if we could say the same for getting some shut-eye," Snow said, earning a frown from Hope. "Isn't midnight her usual hour?" the silver-haired teen asked.

Serah traded a concerned, somewhat weary glance with her fiancé, "An hour past, maybe?"

"I'd ballpark it at two, on a good day."

Any further remarks from the burly man were cut off by a mechanical shriek piercing through the speakers, precedent to bars of static engulfing the video feed. The trio shared a collective wince, the pain in their ears subsiding as the static faded away. A current of cross twittering gurgled out from the speakers as the robot won the struggle of arranging itself right side-up, a thin fracture in the optic lens indicating the least of his injuries.

The camera angle swivelled off to the side, engulfing the screen in momentary darkness before Bhakti's headlight illuminated a crevice located high in the curved tunnel wall. Thin clouds of dust and dislodged pebbles marked the fall the robot had endured from the unforeseen ledge. Grimacing at the numerous dents Bhakti was likely to have acquired, Snow retrieved the data screen, "He's gone off the map," he told them, the green icon flickering in a sea of uncharted terrain.

"I thought we knew all of Atomos' paths near the mines..." Hope trailed off, his second guessing short-lived in the wake of Serah's scrutiny of the cavern formation.

"This isn't one of them," she commented, pointing to the scuffed, scale-like irregularities scored into the side of the tunnel. A command to Bhakti resulted in the robot taking a full scope of the opposite wall and ceiling of the cavern, confirming a continuous arrangement of jagged impressions. Snow crossed his arms over his chest, "Can we figure out how big this thing is?"

"It won't bring us any closer to knowing what the secondary supports are," Hope said, elaborating upon receiving a mildly confused glance from Serah. "A fal'Cie's defences come in pairs -like how Anima had these manipulators, or Barthandelus having this weird set of faces under his shoulders."

Suppressing a frustrated sigh, the burly man turned his eyes away from the computer screen. As much as he longed for the fal'Cie to crawl out of its cowardice, their lack of preparedness and the conundrum of how close the battlefield could be to Niflheim soundly outweighed their progress in uncovering its purpose. Small comfort came with waiting; it gave ample time for him to cultivate his determination to bring an end to the latest fal'Cie menace.

In any other situation, his aim would be straightforward: annihilating the threat the immortal fiend presented to his family and fellow citizens. As it stood, every minute spent to be rid of this threat cluttered his primary goal with delay; to restore a proud smirk and cheerful soul to the life, to the home, that had been denied to them for so long.


	12. Chapter 12

12

"_Vanille."_

"_Hmm?"_

"_How's the Eidolon faring?"_

"_Hasn't said much in the way of complaints. Then again, I've yet to see him be all that assertive in his opinion."_

"_Outside of 'protect mistress, kill all vipers'?"_

"_We're still working on that last one. And Bahamut is...?"_

"_Fidgety."_

"_Poor dears -if only those crystals didn't have to be so cramped."_

"_Makes you almost want to miss Anima."_

"_Like it would change any of those nonsense fal'Cie rules."_

"_It's always been that way. Soon as a l'Cie shakes off their brand, the Eidolons return to being an extension of the fal'Cie's power. Without that same fal'Cie to reclaim them, they cease to be. But if their crystal is out in the open..."_

"_Then they just crumble away."_

"_Unless we're talking about Odin, the Sisters, Brynhildr, the Fortress-"_

"_But they're an exception. The will of their l'Cie was greater than the Focus that bound them. Because of that, the Eidolons obeyed their command by reinforcing Cocoon." _

"_What kept Hecatoncheir and Bahamut from joining them? Do they think they've got to make up for five centuries of unrealized potential? Maybe they're waiting on another fal'Cie to hurry on over and give us a shiny new Focus." _

"_Fang, they might be trying to defend us from that-"_

"_And if that isn't the case? What comes then?"_

"_Well, we'll just have to wait and see-"_

"_By the time that happens, we might not have a four-folk band to back us up-"_

"_Let's not be like this-"_

"_Like what? Realistic?"_

"_I know there's as much horrible stuff as there is good, but-"_

"_Preparing ourselves for what could very well be the inevitable?"_

"_I'll have you know that sometimes-"_

"_Quit kidding around, Vanille-"_

"_-I wish you'd keep it to yourself!"_

"_..."_

"_..."_

"_..."_

"_Oh, Fang-"_

"_I didn't mean a word of it-"_

"_I'm so sorry-"_

"_Now, now, you've had your share of apologies... Tuh, who'd have thought I'd be getting this fusty so quick -just from thinking about a bit of fresh air, of all things!"_

"_Funny you should mention that. I had always imagined I'd miss the flowers and the sky, the people and the laughter... It seems so silly to say, but I... I wouldn't mind a hug, right about now."_

"_You and me both."_

* * *

**Notes:** Justification for Vanille and Fang being able to communicate with their Eidolons, as they do to one another, comes in the idea that Bahamut and Hecatoncheir's crystals are among the crystal fragments seen orbiting the two.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:** I'll not play around with perspectives outside of the main party for much longer -after all, stuff's going to hit the fan in the next few chapters. x3

* * *

13

"Steady, steady! Bring it more to the left -_your_ left, not mine!"

Propping her hands on her hips, Lebreau fell short of rolling her eyes as the remote-piloted Golem followed her instructions with the grace of an arthritic centaurion. Organization within NORA Transports was decent enough, though she could attest otherwise to the degrees of incompetence afflicting trainees and people repeating the same errors in each trial. By all means, the company had come a long way with funds, renovation and reputation; as one among NORA's founding trio, the confident youth had no qualms about progress as long as it was done properly.

Briskly she motioned for the pilots to power down the Dreadnought's hulking successors and descended the steel grated catwalk, approaching the wire bundles and components piled together by the Golems. Lebreau did not regret the time and effort she spent towards bringing the Helicon into existence, yet she could not deny the lack of frequency in which she caught up on old times with friends and family alike. Whether it was the old garage that doubled as a hangout and workplace, her first café, or the crowded wreck they called home, life in Bodhum presented endless opportunities to see familiar faces, day in and day out. The reality of her birth home becoming a thing of the past was something she could not prevent; however, she knew it was in her power to amend any chance of being drawn apart from those who were dear to her.

Arranging the extension cord coils according to colour and coding, Lebreau took inventory of the devices buried under the wires. The instalment of a flat screen monitor was nothing out of the ordinary, though the enthusiasm with which Snow called on her assistance to assemble it indicated significance beyond its outward appearance. Judging the litter of vehicle parts and scrapped designs with a sceptical eye, Lebreau had half a mind to perceive the burly man's request as a veiled plea to introduce order to the gradual chaos of relocation.

She was in the process of dismissing the automotive odds and ends from the designated workspace when the echo of lumbering footsteps carried down from the catwalk, accompanied by a far lighter pace. Easily recognizing the incoming individuals, the confident youth grinned and meandered to the foot of the stairs.

"Yo, 'Breau!" Gadot greeted, his hearty wave very nearly clipping Maqui, whose determination to impress his peers had not diminished, as evidenced by the worn box of tools and conduits he struggled to carry.

"Finally!" She called, feigning exasperation, "Any longer and I would've thought you two were caught up in another accelerator incident."

The shock trooper held his hands up defensively, "That was Cole's business. I had nothing to do with it!"

"Says the guy who had the manual," Maqui supplied, wisely jogging down the remaining steps to avoid an intentional cuff. "Alright, enough messing around," she chided gently, ruffling the teenager's hair and pounding her knuckles against Gadot's fist with her free hand.

Eager to be free of his burden, Maqui trotted to the far side of the wires, setting the box aside while Gadot and Lebreau discarded the rest of the vehicle parts in their way. "Did the rookies get a hold of the Golems again?" the shock trooper asked, noting the disorganization of automotive frames that had been hauled aside to accommodate the monitor's assembly.

"You know it," Lebreau sighed dismissively.

"Then get Chendra and Drez on their case!"

The response summoned the trio's sight to the dormant Golems, their proximity to the main pathway proving little hindrance to Yuj, who nimbly sidestepped the partial blockade. Depositing a number of instruction sheets on the discarded breastplate of an Orion, the fashionable teen was met with an amiable atmosphere, as though there had never been a trace of distance among the quartet.

"They're out on call," Gadot replied in concerns to Yuj's comment on NORA's most reliable automaton pilots, "Some ships got a nasty case of water damage down by the Steppe."

Maqui scratched the nape of his neck, "Wait, so they _were_ starting to put that hangar together?" he asked, bemused.

Gadot shook his head, "You didn't hear? The flight routes over there are on lockdown. There's a huge rainstorm going on -ISD and ESD operations got postponed because of it."

Assisting Yuj with sorting out the initial assembly steps, Lebreau raised a wary brow at the mention of the Security Divisions, "That must've really made Light's day."

"You should've seen it," Gadot told her, "She and Sazh were talking about it a few days ago, before Snow called us. They kept going on about some 'Titan' guy -whoever he is, he'd better watch his back."

Kneeling down near the underside of the monitor, Lebreau gestured towards the wire coils, "Toss me one of the triple fives, would you?" changing topics, she added, "Did the Boss say anything to you about what this screen's for?"

Yuj ferried the required cord from Maqui to her, shrugging in the wake of the question, "Whatever it is, Hope's probably in on it. After all, he's the one who put the instructions together."

Seizing one of the assembly sheets the teenager gleaned over the penmanship, "That's cool and everything, but would it hurt him to take some pointers on legibility?"

"You're one to talk," Lebreau teased while plugging in the necessary wires, "Besides, you're more used to Sazh's writing -maybe you should've gotten him to write this up?"

"Wouldn't have had the chance," Gadot told her, "The old man went down to the Fissure to get that scrap box on wheels -"

"Bhakti," Maqui corrected, his clarification sparking a new line of thought in the confident youth's mind.

"Hey, didn't Hope wire a video feed up to its lens a few months ago?" she inquired, continuing upon receiving a nod of affirmation, "And Snow's always talking about how he and the rest of the gang are trying to find a way to bring back those two -Vanille and Fang?"

Catching on to Lebreau's reasoning, Yuj's eyes lit up with excitement, "This means they know where to look?"

"Don't get ahead of yourself, nothing's for certain," the confident youth reminded him, though her own anticipation was evident as she looked towards the monitor, "But if they do end up record anything worthwhile, we'll be the first to see it!"

"We'll have them home in no time," Gadot said, chuckling as Maqui and Yuj high-fived in premature celebration before he went on, "Then we'll know for sure how much of those stories are true. I mean, skinning a bear for a skirt sounds easy enough, but pulling fiends out of the sky? I'm not too sure about that, man."

Contrary to the shock trooper's commentary, Maqui all but radiated awe, "Seriously, how awesome would that be? Just going out there and reeling in the first wyvern you see!"

"That's nothing compared to the sense of style they've got," Yuj countered, "It's wicked vintage."

"We can talk about threads later," Lebreau said, swatting at the fashionable teen's head with the rolled-up instructions, "Let's get this show on the road!"

* * *

Hope flexed out the lingering cramp in his hand, making note to abstain from any attempt to complete both homework and assembly manuals all in the same night. He faced few setbacks in addressing his studies with the same amount of attention he devoted towards his goal, though occasionally his mind would drift from the concerns of what was demanded of him and what he intended to accomplish.

Pushing the textbook to the far corner of his desk, Hope threw a partially interested look at the hibernating laptop to his right. Bhakti had received a quick tune-up prior to going forth into the Massif Ark the previous morning, yet the silver-haired teen doubted the robot had covered a significant amount of ground within the cavernous structure, in spite of his endurance. Folding his hands behind his head he reclined slightly, staring beyond the pale ceiling.

"I might've told you this before -well, in the sense of talking at you, but..." he paused, grasping for the right words, "I still don't get how you could put a smile over how you really felt, all the things you feared for so long. Back then... we probably didn't realize how much that kept us going, how you got us to keep moving forward. I mean, after everything you went through, before the Purge and after..."

He sat up straight, head bowed as he rested his forearms on the desk, "You were always there for me from the start -I could always depend on you," Bitterly, he narrowed his eyes, "This isn't any way for me to make it up to you. I just... I can't tell if we've missed something, or if we're not even as far along as we should be by now."

With a measured breath he steadied his emotions, gathering all the confidence he could muster to speak his heart, even if the recipient could not hear his tidings.

"No matter what happens, Vanille, I'll be waiting here for you. Everyone will be."


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** Five days until finals come along... I really, really want to try and polish up chapter fifteen before they start, but until that gets sorted out, our favourite Oerbans have some explaining to do. xD

* * *

14

"_They have to get out of there!"_

"_Vanille, listen-"_

"_There isn't any time for that! If I can hear him now, then I'll be able to hear him when She comes and when he -when everyone-"_

"_Don't even try it. I'd sooner string Her guts about the warrens before you give up on them!"_

"_Fang, they still don't know who they're dealing with-"_

"_Fal'Cie, plain and simple."_

"_But they haven't even seen Her! They don't know Her weaknesses, Her motive -nothing!"_

"_They know how to survive. And you know as well as I that we can't put our energies towards fretting. Not with this weight on our shoulders."_

"_But Fang-"_

"_Keep it together, Missy. Remind me why it's taken her so long to find them in the first place."_

"_I can't…"_

"_Worrying won't be any help to him, not to any of ours."_

"… _In the early eras, Dahaka and Asura were intended to be two parts of a whole. Dahaka was tasked to be the eyes of Asura, scouting the skies in search of foreign forces, anything that might pose a threat to Gran Pulse. Upon the discovery of an intruder, Dahaka would combine his flight with Asura's might -together, they were known as Taejin. With the wings of Dahaka and the strength of Asura, they would ascend their lofty lair and decimate their targets."_

"_..."_

"_When he said they would be waiting-"_

"_There's more to it."_

"_I was just getting to that part -I was, honest! All that scoffing is bound to be trouble on your throat..."_

"_Let's hear it."_

"_Hmm... The rest is just a guess, but after the War ended and the Cocoon fal'Cie stole more and more of Gran Pulse, from fields to cities, Asura fell into a terrible rage. She lay in wait until there were enough vipers in the skies to make an example of. Then, with Dahaka's constant loyalty, She took to the heavens with fearsome power. Not a single Cocoon l'Cie was left alive, and all that remained of their final theft lay for centuries in the Vile Peaks. Content with Her judgment, Asura burrowed deep into the earth to slumber until Dahaka heralded another invasion. Years became decades and grew longer still, yet Dahaka spied no further attack on Pulsian soil. Eventually he began to roam in circles, driven to madness, for he never found Asura's place of slumber, and so he felt abandoned. He sought to destroy anything he felt was out of place, even if it was born to travel the very land he did. By this he earned his downfall."_

"_Times have changed, Vanille. The spire is broken, Dahaka's done with. She's been blind from the moment She woke."_

"_It doesn't matter if the stars fall or the triffids wither away. You heard Hope as well as I did! Even if She was coming later, the ones we hold dear would still be like sitting sheep, just as unaware as the rest of their people."_

"_And you're not hearing _me_ out. If they can see past illusions, then they'll do just fine dealing with a surprise visit. The best we can do for them is to keep this place standing. You with me on that?"_

"_... Okay."_


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N:** The good news out of this belated update is that I'm looking forward to heading off to university after summer. xD I'll try and have the next few chapters out as soon as I can; though, you folks deserve far more than this for your patience.

* * *

15

Transparent brilles protected the sight of Orobons in the absence of eyelids; as such, the amphibian's dewy eyes appeared to reflect a constant impression of indolence. Coupled with their trademark call, the creatures never shied from using the docile facade to their advantage and were thus counted among the most prosperous breeds of Pulsian wildlife. Well aware of this, Lightning tightened her hold on the reins of the Orobon issued to her, pointedly ignoring his plaintive crowing.

After two days delay in response to the downpour summoned by Titan, ISD officials declared the quake-struck area near the Steppe was safe enough for their personnel, though civilian access remained unapproved until the location could be properly scouted for faults. The bowl of uneven terrain was becoming steadily submerged by the rain runoff from the Steppe proper, increasing the chance of washing any and all manner of fiends into her way, as well as the risk of evicting several more complications from their drowned dens.

Despite the presence of the amphibian, the water rose to the middle of her calves, with depressions and plentiful tracts of mud forcing the Orobon to paddle every so often. Had she been able to foresee the change of weather, the very notion of permitting the ISD affiliate to accompany her patrol of the area would not have come to mind. It was mandatory for any member of the ESD to be prepared for these situations if they ever hoped to complete their task, or earn their worth's wages.

In the first few months following the formation of the respective Security Divisions, Lightning had made a habit of leading the patrols as a means of familiarizing personnel with the lay of the land. That a fair amount of members seemed to interpret this as a lasting pattern failed to sit well with her. Weaning them from dependency and reluctance to face what had once been the world of their nightmares would be a hard-won battle, this she knew from the start. Though progress was showing, the former soldier wondered how much longer she could put up with the burdensome paradox -being a source of guidance and fear, the final say and the first strike, mentor and scapegoat.

Lightning slowed the amphibian's pace, waiting on the ISD affiliate to finish her surveillance before moving on. She would not go back on her agreement to Torres' suggestion of partnered reconnaissance; at any opportunity, it was vital to encourage cooperation between the two Divisions as a precaution to prevent reincarnation of the disdain between the Guardian Corps and PSICOM. The ISD affiliate's sharp gaze affirmed her previous station in the Corps, with only an inkling of distaste towards the brewing clouds indicating any emotion beyond professionalism. No direct hostility had presented itself, inciting Lightning to stay on her guard. Trust was not the matter, so much as lack of communication -some more than others found difficulty in accepting the reintegration of former fugitives into society. Some concealed resentment better than the rest.

A disturbance in the murky water brought her hand to rest on the saber, where it remained tense until the group of ceratosaurs altered their course of travel from her path, the rigid fins along their spines slipping beneath the surface. Alerted by this action, the gunner steadied the distressed Orobon under her jurisdiction, patting its glistening neck while casting the former soldier a look that questioned if the creatures intended to double back. Lightning shook her head, motioning for them to take their route in the direction from where the ceratosaurs had come. The choppy ripples born of the vicious amphibian's movements suggested that they had perceived her as an obstacle, rather than an entity to be feared.

Plodding around the base of a steep slope, the two cautiously approached a huddle of boulders, cast down from the low escarpment by the quake nearly three days prior. The elevation surrounding the broken rock met a gradual incline; the Orobons compromised the potential of a pre-emptive strike, for their webbed feet fell upon the shallow water in a similar fashion to the fins of a large, flailing fish. Lightning dismounted and strode out into the ankle-high downpour runoff, winding the reins around her hand.

The vantage point looked out on the lower plains of the Steppe; here and there, far-off, shimmering halos marked the eternal vigil of waystones. Without a Focus dictating their existence, Lightning and her fellow survivors of Anima's final command could no longer access the aid provided by the petrified l'Cie's teleportation. Lacking said transportation, though inconvenient if one sought to cross great distances, ultimately caused little in the way of upset in their lives. At this rate, further investigation of the slough was minimal, giving her a decent chance of returning home in time to collect Serah and Dajh from their visit to NORA Transports later in the-

Pebbles and silt plinked into the shallows, their deceptively soft descent reflected against the drawn saber. The boulders continued to tremble, sending her Orobon into a fit of agitated warbling as he attempted to yank free of the reins. Lightning held her ground, a chill surging through her veins as a warped growl confirmed her belief of what the cause behind the ceratosaur's blind panic was.

She severed the Orobon's reins with a single swipe of the saber; the frantic creature sped away without a moment's hesitation. Her sight set on the shuddering rocks, Lightning shouted to Torres over her shoulder, "Let it go!" she ordered, transitioning the saber to its carbine counterpart as the boulders finally gave way under the rage of the entombed menace.

Jagged charcoal crystals studded the Cie'th's hulking form, fused to the very marrow of its bones. An ashen, emaciated ribcage was all that remained of its true appearance; given the scab-like growth of granite flakes over decayed flesh, the memory of a mortal body would not last for many years longer.

Its movement was hindered by the curse bearing down on it, yet the forsaken individual managed to toss aside the rubble that still buried it as though it were skipping stones across a pond. Initiating a back flip, Lightning avoided the boulder sent flying towards her knees, the grav-con unit enabling her to divert incoming debris with two swift shots.

Landing out of the Cie'th's throwing range, Lightning procured a ruin orb from her storage pack while judging her foe for any overt signs of its magic potential at this stage of petrifaction. The forsaken soul gave an ancient groan, struggling to shamble into the fray with the weight of its crystal-covered forearms. It hobbled in her direction, giving Torres ample opportunity to find a vantage point and conceal her attack from the Cie'th's notice.

Lightning darted to the far right during its instance of weakness, throwing the orb so that it curved and made direct impact with the back of the Cie'th's unsteady knees. It faltered, allowing Lightning to observe a partially-formed arch jutting out of the stem of its neck.

The forsaken soul's piercing wail nearly compromised Lightning's stance; despite its proximity to becoming a waystone, the Cie'th's mangled cry was no less capable of paralyzing an unsuspecting target. She gritted her teeth, firing a volley of bullets at its throat and vocal chords. The shots were deflected by its crystal encrusted collarbone, though the resulting shrapnel succeeded in furrowing into the soft tissue under the fiend's chin.

Recoiling the Cie'th choked on the embedded fragments, exposing its neck as it staggered back. A pair of carefully aimed bullets, spitting sparks from the manadrive's endowment, halted Lightning's retrieval of a second orb and tore through its jugular.

Its head lolled back, encouraging the oily flow of blood from the gaping wounds before the forsaken individual toppled over. A pale glow engulfed its torso, completing its morbid process of crystallization while a palm-sized crystal burst from its chest and soared to the sky, where it disintegrated in a blinding flash of light.

The ringing subsided from Lightning's ears as she sheathed the saber, turning her back to the mineralized corpse to determine how far the Orobons had fled. She spied an arrangement of arrow-like ripples dispersing over the water's surface; further consideration of how to recapture the amphibians was stalled by the reappearance of the gunner.

Her sight was fixed on the Cie'th, her stride slow and purposeful as she circled its malachite coffin. The former soldier studied the silent reaction carefully; raw pity flickered in Torres' eyes, offset by her persistence in maintaining composure. With her lips set in a thin line, Lightning weighed her response to this, watchful of the ISD affiliate's white-knuckled grip on the rifle.

"Torres," she began, "Once they've gone this far-"

"There's no coming back," the gunner interjected, her collected tone fractured, "Is that what you wanted to say? Or were you going to tell me that they don't deserve to be remembered as people? That we shouldn't spare a thought to what they might've been screaming about? How the ones they loved failed to be there for them when they needed it most?" Tearing her eyes away from the Cie'th, she sent the former soldier a burning glare, "Who's to blame, Farron? Is it Raines? Rygdea? That slew of fal'Cie, their servants..."

Lightning remained where she stood, her frown softened by an empathy that was both familiar and unknown as Torres wavered, the rifle slightly shaking in her hands, "Or is it all on me? I wanted what was right for him, a life he could appreciate. If I knew where that road was going to end..."

A buffet of air stroked the water's surface, passing the two fighters with a keening whistle. As it faded, the former soldier spoke with a steeled voice, from which barbs and the intent to affront were not fashioned.

"You can spend a lifetime trying to figure out any question. By the time you find the answer, it might be too late to fix what's been done. It might not make any sense, or you won't be willing to accept it. Sometimes, there are no answers."

Dipping her chin, she went on, "When it comes to the ones we've lost... It's not about what was best for them, or what we wanted for them. All we can do is respect how they deserve to be remembered. If things were different, if he could see you now, would he still recognize you? Is this how he would want you to live?"

She paused, recalling the devastation of Lake Bresha; seeing Serah breathless and cold in her quartz cradle. Then, even with the thought that everything she once held dear was lost, she had refused to embrace the Lake as her crypt.

"The least we can do is keep their memory close and move on."

The cape swayed behind Lightning as she strode towards the Orobon's retreat. Unblinking, Torres lowered the rifle to her side and cast a final look at the crystallized corpse before leaving it at her heels.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N:** Thanks to **Reading Chick** and Truth for beta-ing.

* * *

16

Pulsework automata stood in various hunched, crumbling states of decay. Once-proud forms mimicked the appearance of skeleton sentries, doomed to be consumed by the very lands under their watch; such was the fate of the trials within an Ark abandoned by time and the fal'Cie that had shaped it.

None too keen on becoming similarly forgotten, Bhakti wheeled along the fragmenting ramps and mould-stricken corridors, constantly adjusting the angle of his optic lens in search of his objective. The lack of stability in his surroundings did not make this a particularly pleasant task -or, as pleasant as his programmed degree of sentiency would allow him to deem. However, the robot seldom needed to review his memory card to recognize the habits expressed by the short caretaker whenever he was working towards something that would bring mistress back from wherever she had disappeared to. Though he was unsure of the exact manner in which she would return, Bhakti would nonetheless offer his whole and undivided cooperation to any order, great or small, so long as it was to his mistress' benefit.

Lowering his floodlight panel, Bhakti pulled into reverse and scurried behind the rotting limb of a Berserker. His audio sensory had only picked up a minor disturbance among the faint echo of his progress, yet five centuries spent trapped in a neighbourhood under siege by hulking creatures had encouraged him to highly value the importance of caution.

With their bodies shining in sickly bioluminescence, the noctilucale would be an easy meal for the predatory mammals inhabiting the aging Ark, if not for the balance of acidic compounds produced in the resin coating their petals and waxy skin. Having observed their pattern of movement, the robot carefully manipulated their sensitivity to light by mapping out the number of reflective surfaces that bore the least amount of rust. As a result of his efforts, the noctilucale were coming closer to slithering over one of several geometric crests carved into the otherwise pale, unremarkable flooring. Due to thick layers of dust, Bhakti had been unable to decipher the grooves and indents carved into the crests; the consistent depth of the marks gave the curious indication that they were not wrought by the weathering of time.

The noctilucale came to a sluggish halt over the nearest crest. Allowing them a handful of seconds to idle, Bhakti lifted the floodlight panel a fraction of an inch and angled it to reflect off of a corroded blade leaning against the foul corpse of a Greater Behemoth. A chorus of irritated screeching preceded the noctilucale's defensive inversion of their petals as they migrated further into the shadows.

Chancing his luck with a small warble of triumph, the robot crept out from his hiding niche and cast the floodlight over the crest. Eagerly Bhakti transferring the worn lines of scripture to the video feed maintained by short caretaker, unaware of the dread that gripped the young teen's heart as he translated the writing and proceeded to scramble for his cellphone.

* * *

"I'm just throwing it out there, but if we were to move that a few feet to the right-"

"You'd be cutting into the assembly line."

Glaring at the blueprints spread across the workbench, Snow let his suggestion expire without protest, knowing better than to question Sazh's knowledge of the airship yard's layout and surrounding area. From the start, he was well aware that relocating NORA Transports to the neighbouring property was not something that would be accomplished in an evening. Even so, dedicated as he was to bringing this vision into existence, some days proved to be more wearying than others, primarily when complications such as those concerning the arrangement of refining and production stations arose.

Sazh paced to the opposite end of the workbench, his back facing the glass panes looking out onto the hangar bay as he spoke, "On the bright side, there isn't much left to tackle apart from this," he reminded Snow. Pinching the bridge of his nose, the burly man acknowledged his comment, "Yeah. It'd probably take longer if we were still in Bodhum."

"Folks there let you get away with all that procrastinating," Sazh guessed, feigning a reprimanding tone. With a half-smile, Snow crossed his arms, "As if," he chuckled, "You'd have been pretty surprised to see the sort of role model material we had. If Sonja could see us now..."

The smile faded with his words, submerging the atmosphere of the office in an unpleasantly familiar silence. As someone who grew up among few relatives, Sazh could not relate to Snow's roots of finding family among the fellow orphans and friends he had grown up with. Similarly, Sazh was unsure how many of these people had been claimed by the Purge, shot down or sent falling out of Snow's reach. The consequences could be endlessly dwelt on -the pilot could wonder how many couples, young and old, had been forever torn away from one another; think of how many youths had shared Serah's prospects of family values and higher education in Eden. He was by no means opposed to grieving and remembrance. There was a time and place for everything, yet the present and future were not to avoided or forsaken in favour of living in constant thought of what could not be undone.

Wishing to clear the air, Sazh approached a different topic, "You hear the latest about Mah'habara?"

"Still no sign of activity," Snow replied, though the pilot was unsatisfied with this.

"It ain't just on the industrial front anymore," he told the burly man, "There's talk that Atomos has gone and abandoned the network."

Snow narrowed his eyes, "He knew Titan was going to try flooding the Steppe?"

Resting his chin on his hand, Sazh faced the glass panes, "It's possible. But if you ask me, it seems like he was trying to get away from something."

"That, or he was chased out of his own turf," recalling the scan of the Subterra, Snow clenched his fists, "Do we really want to bet on Titan to drown it out?"

The trill of his cellphone left the question unanswered. Unclipping the device from his belt, the burly man's mood was somewhat improved upon recognizing the caller as he answered, "Hey -whoa, what's the rush?"

Sazh turned away from the glass pane, noting the concern emanating from Snow's tone as the conversation continued. "No, she's still on reconnaissance-" he paused, walking closer to the workbench, "Hold on a sec."

Adjusting the cell's speaker settings, Snow set it on top of the blueprints, stepping back as Hope's agitated voice carried into the office.

'_-if we asked Vanille and Fang, they might not have known.'_

"Known what?" Sazh asked, attempting to ignore the chill in his veins.

'_Remember in the Fifth Ark, how some of those floor tiles were different from the others? It turns out they're these plaques -a reminder of which fal'Cie were responsible for making the Arks in the first place.'_

"They'd have no problem reading those-" Snow started, only to be quickly corrected.

'_That's not what I meant. They might not have known it would've come to this -maybe the existence of the fal'Cie had been as much of a myth as the Arks were.'_

The pilot frowned, "Looks like we've got a name for our quake fal'Cie."

'_I think it's more than that. It's called Asura, and it picked the trials for each Ark. This thing... it wanted l'Cie to come as close as possible to copying its purpose. To get rid of any foreign presence-_'

Static engulfed the remainder of the connection. Any of Snow's endeavours to recover the transmission never came into action. Any moment for Sazh to try and soften the revelation piecing itself together, of realizing the threat to Cocoon's survivors -Gran Pulse's intruders, never came to be.

Barely louder than a whisper, the scream fell upon their ears with vicious might. The distorted war cry boasted retaliation, vowing to cleanse the land of foul infestation, before it faded away.

Intercepting Snow's line of thought, the pilot tossed the cell back to him on their way to the door, "I'll meet you at the Transports -there's no telling how close it'll be this time. Call Light as soon as the signal clears up; I'll see if I can get Bartholomew on the line!"

At this, Snow raced towards the parking lot. The fal'Cie's howl all but confirmed the tremor would strike close to home. Within minutes of Snow's sprint across the gravel lot, alarms blared at his heels, diminishing the immediate threat to the hangar personnel. Clearing the remaining distance from the Velocycle, he brought the vehicle roaring out into the road.

A thunderous tremor jostled the outskirts of the town square's north end. Lost amid the panic was the fearful flight of a young boy, accompanied by a quailing chirp as the world caved in around them.

* * *

**Notes:** Sonja ('Sonia' in fan translations) is a character introduced in Episode Zero: Promise. Said to be three years older than Snow, she is described, in his perspective, as a bossy individual who '[was] like a sister to him. A very scary sister.'


	17. Chapter 17

17

Smoke curled up from the joints of the Golems as they strained to support the weakened catwalks and machinery, their crystal engines spitting embers from the overriding command to keep the evacuation routes from caving in. Throughout the north end of the town square, the civilians' flight for safety was being swiftly met by the response of the ISD, yet their ability to account for the lives of those who were still trapped in larger buildings depended on the survival instincts of said people.

Weaving through the current of panicked employees, Serah gritted her teeth against the bruises sustained from the jostling crowd and clambered over a partially collapsed stairway. She had not seen a child at risk of being trampled, yet her thankfulness was marred by the growing possibility that Dajh's safety was wandering farther from her grasp.

Picking up her pace, Serah manoeuvred past various vehicle components and ceiling lights thrown askew in the hallways. The surreal transition from a game of hide and seek—which was more often than not 'follow the trail of moulted Chocobo down'—to foraging through a maze of instability had been jarringly abrupt, yet it was not the only concern to assail the younger Farron in a matter of minutes.

An unnatural rush of adrenaline seared her heart, goading her to act beyond running, to invest in the silent force that had been hounding her mind, ever since waking from stasis. Numerous times she had come close to explaining the source of her agitation to Snow and Sazh; ultimately, she refused to follow through with her efforts. She did not wish to remind them of their persecuted days, even if every recurring spell of restlessness brought back the nightmares of frozen slumber.

Often, she had overheard Hope question why the former l'Cie were able to retain control of magic, despite the absence of their brands. Lightning proposed that it was simply residual, given the frequency with which they used it in their travels, though all were agreed that this was bound to wear away. Whether it would take anywhere from months to years to fully disperse was unknown. However, Sazh was of the mind that the elements that had also been wielded by their Eidolons would be the last to depart.

The roof shuddered overhead, prompting Serah to press closer to the walls. She wanted nothing more than to leave every trace of her l'Cie status—every torment and grief born of it, in the past. To her, the retention of magic was a deceptive scar. The manadrive excuse could only last so long before questions became insistent and answers were actively sought. Even when the sight of a spell had passed, its lingering aura would feed uncertainty and fearful ignorance. There were still those who spoke of her loved ones in cutting whispers, singling them out with bitter glares and falsehoods. The desire to set such ungrateful individuals straight was put in check by what truly mattered -the bright future that awaited her family.

A shriek of torn metal and severed wiring stole her breath as a Golem, stationed in the hall from whence she came, buckled under the weight of a catwalk littered with rubble. Without hesitation Serah sped around the corner of the corridor, taking refuge behind a dormant velocycle while the escaping crystal energy reacted from exposure to the untreated debris.

Cautiously abandoning her cover, the younger Farron ducked under the plumes of smoke belching out from the burning wreckage, avoiding inhalation. Once she was clear of the hazard she continued down to the lower levels with renewed haste. Any one of those explosions were waiting to take place all around the complex. Any one of them could be closer to Dajh than she was.

The essence of pent-up magic seemed to lose interest in her anxiety, feeding on a new, kindling fire that propelled her onwards. Her doubts about daring to think of, much less harness the potential in her veins cowered, slinking back to the recesses of her mind as the thought of the endangered child bolstered her determination.

Her progression across the main level was stalled by the mingled shouts of familiar voices, barely audible above the groaning foundation supports. Over the railing of the nearest stairway, Serah spied Lebreau, Maqui and Gadot guiding a score of employees to the stairwell leading to the emergency exit from the basement levels. Yuj strayed to the back of the group, ensuring no one fell behind or gained additional injuries. A shower of sparks jumped behind a pile of scrapped engines—the sole warning of the failing strength in the Golem supporting a catwalk mere feet ahead of him.

A bolt of light struck the falling catwalk, ensnaring and freezing it in place with rippling waves of energy. In the wake of this development, the employees all but stampeded through the exit route; the importance of Yuj's welfare forestalled the surprise of Gadot and his companions as they approached the fashionable teen in a flurry of relief. However, Yuj's observation of the gravity spell's trajectory quickly diverted the attention of the trio.

Silver tendrils coiled around Serah's left hand; her fascination at the slight, nonetheless invigorating decrease of restlessness was briefly doused when she felt their eyes upon her, summoning nightmares and misgivings. On further inspection, however, her spirits soared upon realizing that the quartet did not look to her with wariness, but awe.

The fashionable teen gave a shout of thanks—this, coupled with a cheer from Lebreau, Gadot and Maqui, prompted Serah to instinctively shy away from the railing, her face flushed. In this evasive moment of calm, a faint echo carried down from the ventilation shaft running down the corridor to her right. Her family called out to her, alarm taking hold of them as she backed away from the stairs.

"I'm sorry," the younger Farron murmured, withdrawing the spell from the catwalk and allowing it to crash down before the quartet. They were dear to her and would counter any threat in order to keep her safe; her knowledge of this led to her action of deterring their pursuit of her as she ran further into the compromised building, tracking the echo of Hina's chirping.

Encountering the smouldering frame of a Golem, she issued a spell towards the fractured ceiling as she came to her destination at the end of the hall.

The door to Snow's office swung on weakened hinges, partially revealing the clutter of blueprints, files and data cards strewn on the floor. Carefully picking her way across the room, Serah observed the scattering of downy feathers that led to the desk at the far side of the wall.

"Dajh?" she enquired, her fingers curling around her engagement pendant as the lack of response renewed her worry.

Her heart skipped a beat, caught off-guard by the volume of Hina's joyous chirp. The Chocobo chick fluttered ahead of the child, who scurried out from under the desk and stumbled into Serah's arms.

"Don't worry, everything's okay now," she assured, patting Dajh's back as he clung to her shoulders.

The child sniffled, overwhelmed by the sudden sense of security. "The monster came back," he said, eyes shining with fear. "It was really loud, and it hurt my ears and made Hina scared—then everyone else got scared and we couldn't find another hiding place..."

Serah warded off a shiver at the mention of the fal'Cie and the distorted scream that had preceded the tremors. Hina chirred nervously, leading the younger Farron to brush away the tears streaking Dajh's cheeks and usher him towards the hall, "C'mon—your daddy must be worried sick about you."

"'Bout both of us," the child corrected, his reply accompanied by an affirmative cheep as Hina perched on his shoulder, "And when we get outta here, you and him are gonna teach that monster a lesson!"

Lifting him over the fallen Golem, Serah laughed slightly, "I don't think I'd be much help—"

"But you can use that glowy stuff, too." Dajh smiled, waving his hands up towards the reinforced ceiling.

Her response to the child's insight faltered on her lips as a clamour of voices arose from the hallway where she had encountered the first Golem. Hand in hand they ran into the adjoining hall and into the emergency stairwell. They reached the bottom of the stairwell without incident; Dajh and Hina scampered to the door, yet the former skidded to a halt when Serah let go of his hand.

She leaned against the railing, unnerved by a growing ache of weariness that began to war with the influence of the magic. Rather than deter her, this conflict spurred her to use what remained of Anima's curse and retaliate against the entities that had tried to eliminate her family, time and time again.

"Dajh," she said, judging which part of the stairwell would best carry the current of magic out to the foundation of the building, "I want you to find one of the ISD patrolmen. Wait there until I come back, or if you see your daddy or Uncle Snow."

Stubbornly the child shook his head, looking down at his feet, "But what if I don't find any of them? What if you can't—" the child wavered, his worries quieted when Serah knelt down to his height and gently lifted his chin to face her.

"Someone very brave once told me, 'It's not a question of can or can't'," she encouraged with soft certainty. "I need you to do this for me, Dajh."

Feathers bristling, Hina hovered up to Serah's side, catching her claws in wisps of her ponytail. With marked hesitance, the child retrieved his pet and returned her to his shoulder. Scuffing his feet, he obediently went to the door and cast the younger Farron a long, imploring look before following through with her request.

Once the door shut behind him, Serah bit down on her lower lip before approaching one of the stairwell supports. She placed her palm flat against it and, breathing in, concentrated the power she had denied for so long.

* * *

Sunset had commenced its brief reign of the skies by the time Lightning and Torres had returned the Orobons to their stables and received debriefing of the third quake. Presently making their way through the sea of evacuees and onlookers surrounding the building belonging to a transportation company, Torres noticed a peculiar lack of patience to the former soldier since taking a call on the way to the square.

The altercation in the Steppe had taken place within this very day, yet Torres felt as though she had been mulling over it for far longer. She had every chance to leave Lightning be and let the Cie'th take care of the wild card to society before continuing on its way. Even so, from her post she had seen the unyielding force with which the former soldier had fought, as though the forsaken soul had been standing between her and a loved one. At so young an age, Farron had taken actions that were still interpreted in a variety of praises or scorn; all this she endured, for she had something to live for.

Hearing a shout rise above the crowd, Torres alerted the former soldier to a tall, distressed individual who fell short of barrelling through the mass of people as he called out to Lightning.

"I've got the perimeter," the ISD affiliate told her, slipping into the crowd as the burly man lumbered up to the former soldier. Looking back, Torres did not need to hear their conversation to realize the concern emanating between them, something that only increased as a motley band of four—perhaps employees or friends of the family, cut into their discussion all at once. Leaving them to their business, Torres continued on to the building itself, narrowing her eyes at a curious glow that flickered beyond broken windows as she neared the complex.

Watchful of anything that may have been dislodged or left at a precarious angle, she headed around the side of the building. She had not gone far before catching the sound of small footsteps racing out into the parking lot, emphasized by a plaintive cry for help. Her default action of coming to the child's aid was stalled when, from the corner of her eye, she saw a cluster of individuals break away from the bulk of onlookers.

Maintaining her cover in the growing shadows of the vehicles, Torres came within hearing range of the group. They had taken similar note of the wandering child, though they did not appear to be affiliated with either Security Division.

"...That's the l'Cie's kid, isn't he?" asked a young woman, a certain edge to her tone.

"So what if it is?" responded a lanky man in his mid-years. "Whatever's going on in there, it isn't his work, or any manadrive I've heard of. I'll be damned if we let another one of them hide away here, keep trying to make our lives miserable..."

Straightening her back, Torres ghosted after the group. These were the kind of people who would only accept the answers they wanted and nothing else. This did not necessarily mean they would properly handle the situation of accosting a supposed l'Cie—or anyone with information pertaining to one. All things considered, state of mind was on their side. The child and whoever was responsible for the spell within the building would be disoriented and likely fatigued from panic. Ideal targets.

Torres held her rifle close.

She knew what had to be done.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: **Thanks to Reading Chick for beta-ing, and the readers/subscribers for sticking around for this long. ^ ^

* * *

18

"Can't today just be over? As in, starting now?" Maqui lamented, resting his head in his hands as he sat on the hood of a parked vehicle, across the street from the Transports.

Yuj scratched the back of his neck, crossing one leg over the other while attempting to reflect a positive outlook, "Well, over in the sense of 'we'll wake up in one piece tomorrow', right? I mean, Light seemed a bit... but you saw how she just took off like that..."

Still clearing the smoke from his lungs, Gadot coughed into his fist and leaned against the side of the velocycle, "Yeah," he replied, his sense of sarcasm unaffected by the turn of events, "I could've sworn someone went and said her little sis had gone running into the heart of a disaster zone."

The fashionable teen waved away his reply, "Begging to spare the messengers won't stand a chance against the sort of look that says 'You're in for it as soon as I get her to safety'. Man, we're going to be worse than dead—"

"Just give it a rest!"

Their heads swivelled towards Maqui in the wake of his sudden outburst. Taking in the sight of the ongoing evacuation, Lebreau abandoned her observation and turned her head to the side, sending Yuj and Gadot a sharp look that encouraged them to remain silent as Maqui went on.

"There's nothing new about Light being able to kill you in a snap—and really, that's all it takes," he hesitated briefly, taking in the awareness of being the center of attention, "But doesn't that only add to how she won't let anything get in the way of her and Serah? Of anyone in her family?"

"Come on, man," Gadot interjected, his eyes narrowed, "We'd have gotten her out of there if she didn't cut us off—"

"Maybe she was right to cut us off like that," the young teen retorted, "If she hadn't seen us, or if she didn't react that quickly, we wouldn't be this lucky." With a sigh, he bowed his head. "And what about Sazh's son? One of us should have gone looking for him—it shouldn't take four people to get everyone to keep their cool..."

Pacing along the side of the fence, Lebreau placed a hand on Maqui's shoulder, "Hey, we did what we could—"

"What if that isn't enough?" he asked, losing the battle against the desperate concern clawing at his throat. "When we first got to know them, it was only 'cause they meant something to Snow and Serah. But... If something happened to any of them, and there was nothing we could do to stop that..."

Aware of the guilt burning in the pit of his stomach, Yuj looked away from Maqui; upon seeing Gadot and Lebreau share a peculiar look, he straightened his back and felt less out of place. They hadn't necessarily neglected to ask Maqui what his family situation had been like before he joined NORA. Rather, they had simply lacked the incentive to discuss it, much less come upon an appropriate time in which the question could present itself. For Lebreau and Gadot, Snow had been their clear embodiment of family since their childhood, whereas Yuj found family in the neighbourhood that had lent a hand in raising him and a slew of siblings.

Maqui had come a long way from the skittish adolescent who took pains to make himself as unnoticeable as possible. With a new perspective of this in mind, the trio of friends reached an unspoken consensus. The young teen's personality had primarily flourished from the realization that he had finally found what he was searching for. He was in a safe environment, surrounded by people he could look up to—people who took note of his contributions and approved of his talents.

Dropping her hand from the young teen's shoulder, Lebreau leaned her back against the unoccupied side of the velocycle.

"Can't argue with you on that," she stated, earning a bemused look from Maqui. Taking her lead, Gadot gave a slight shrug as he clarified, "What? It doesn't matter if you've had a run-in with the fal'Cie or not—you can't be everywhere at once."

"I know that," Maqui argued, "But if we're not around to stop something bad from happening—"

"What's to prevent us from helping them fight back?" Yuj countered thoughtfully, though doubt still lingered in the young teen's mind as he replied, "And if that doesn't work—"

"Then we're still around to pick up the pieces and put everything back to the way it should be." Lebreau reminded him, playfully nudging his ribcage with her elbow before looking across the street once more, her words carrying back to the trio.

"They'll look out for us, just as much as we look out for them. No matter what happens, our family will always pull through together."

* * *

The rippling, silver sheen cast over the weakened foundations of the Transports began to flicker, indicating the spell's waning strength. Scouting the exterior of the building for an entry way that would not compromise the lives of the remaining evacuees, Lightning motioned for Snow to move ahead and continue their scan of the building. Once he fell in pace with her, she brought his attention to the spell, visible through broken windows.

"Still no sign of Sazh or Hope?" she asked, the two of them having long since reached the conclusion that magic of this quality was beyond the capacity of manadrives.

"Not a word," he replied, somewhat delayed due to the overriding concern for his fiancée and the unaccounted-for child, "One of the guys might've said something about this—but when they're talking all at once..."

Nearing the parking lot, Lightning slowed her pace; an action Snow followed, for they did not want to risk drowning out the voices of their loved ones as they they picked up a rush of commotion pouring into the lot.

Straining to hear her sister's lilt or the chirp that rounded off any comment of Dajh's, the former soldier frowned upon catching a familiar, professional tone. She had expected Torres to regroup and debrief with the ISD personnel at hand, as opposed to immediately supervising the evacuees.

And the family of former l'Cie among them.

The recent memory of Torres' resentful reference to fal'Cie servants, of the frayed restraint that kept her from pulling the trigger sent Lightning running. For months, the ISD affiliate had listed the fal'Cie's chosen among the forces that had torn her family away, without giving her a chance to fight for them. It would take far longer than a handful of hours for the potential of a change of heart to properly develop; to reconsider where vengeance was due.

Snow bolted after her, their hasty entrance into the parking lot given little regard by the swarm of evacuees, who were more concerned about collecting their bearings and leaving the danger zone at their heels. Halting near the edge of the gathering, they shouted out for Serah and Dajh, agitation barely concealed as they failed to see any sign of them in the crowd.

Looking over the heads of the evacuees, Snow directed Lightning's notice to the side of the building, "Over there!" he said, pointing out a pudgy figure, bright as the sun she flew under, hovering close to the emergency exit. The Chocobo chick could not be heard over the activity of the crowd, yet the sight of her alone prompted the two to sprint around the crowd and past the rows of parked vehicles. Hina intercepted them in the middle of last row, expressing her relief in an enthusiastic somersault before perching on her owner's shoulder as he dashed out from around the side of a velocycle.

"Uncle Snow! Auntie Light!" Dajh greeted, barrelling into the burly man as soon as he crouched down to his height.

Snow took the impact of his hug with ease, "You okay, kid?" he asked, supporting the child with one arm as he lifted him up from the ground.

"Me and Hina are," Dajh said, emphasising the subsequent concern in his tone by tugging at Lightning's shoulder guard, "But Auntie Serah's not feeling well..."

"Is she close by?" the former soldier enquired, her question answered when Hina soared ahead of them. Snow refrained from matching Lightning's pace as they ran after the Chocobo chick, for he did not wish to jostle the child.

Lightning's pulse raced as Hina led them farther away from the evacuees, the acceleration interrupted by her heart skipping a beat as they reached their destination.

Exhaustion weighed heavily on Serah while she knelt in the shade of a velocycle, yet it did nothing to diminish the relief shining in her eyes, with the approach of her family.

Assured by the uncompromised welfare of her sister and the child, the former soldier helped Serah to her feet, steadying her with a hand on either shoulder, "Are you alright?" she asked, noticing a weary tremble seize her sister's left arm.

"We're fine," Serah affirmed, dissuading Lightning's concern with an earnest smile. As Snow caught up to them, Lightning took a step back from her sister and carefully transitioned Dajh into her arms, in order to let the couple engage in a tight hug.

Having come to conclude that any degree of Snow and Serah expressing affection for one another indicated that all was right in the world, Lightning was thusly unable to prevent herself from smiling, however slightly, at how Dajh conspicuously glanced away from the couple when they shared a kiss. "Did you run into any trouble?" Lightning addressed the child, setting him down.

"Not really," Dajh replied, continuing when the former soldier gave unspoken approval for him to elaborate, "There was a bunch of strangers walking up to the lot -three or four of them. Daddy says I'm not s'posed to talk to strangers, and Auntie Serah told me to wait with the Security people, so I kept trying to find one of them. But then those people started yelling at me, and I ran, but they kept getting louder, and then they got scared away."

"That so?" Lightning said, cold caution climbing into her tone. Unaware of this, Dajh nodded and gestured to an individual observing the dispersing evacuees, "Yeah. That lady just stared at them, and they went running," pausing, the child tapped his chin, "Then she called someone and got talking about 'suspicious characters' or something, but after that she went and made sure Auntie Serah got outside before everyone came running down the stairs."

Taking this into account, the former soldier turned to Dajh, "Stay here," she advised him, prior to walking out to the middle of the lot, where the individual stood.

"What you did for them—"

"Let's get one thing straight," Torres interrupted, arms folded over her chest, "I've still got a lot to think about. Maybe less, maybe more than I did since Cocoon became history." The ISD affiliate redirected her gaze from the departing crowd to where Snow and Serah listened to Dajh's dramatic retelling of his daring escape from harm.

"I might never know everything to do with the part you played in all of that," Torres went on, her once fractured composure mended by resolution, "From causing one thing to preventing another. But when it all comes down to it, those kids shouldn't have to answer for what's being held against you."

With nothing further to say, the ISD affiliate left the lot and rejoined with her fellow personnel with not so much as a thought towards her rifle. Returning to the front of the lot, Lightning assumed Sazh was being notified of his son's safety, upon seeing the child animatedly talking into Snow's cell.

"We're meeting Sazh at his place," Snow told her, his forearm comfortably draped over his fiancée's shoulders. As Dajh wrapped up his conversation, the group lingered long enough to see the spell coating the interior of the Transports fade from existence.

Hina fluttered up to Serah, issuing a rather insistent squawk while Dajh gave her an expectant look, "When are you gonna tell everyone?"

Curious, Lightning and Snow looked to the younger Farron, "Tell us what?" the former soldier questioned, raising a brow upon receiving a small, sheepish smile from her sister.

"Well..."


	19. Chapter 19

19

The analects were stacked on the center of the desk, glowing under the rays of mid-morning sunlight. Two paperweights, a mineral deposit from the Subterra and a coiled shell from the riverbanks curving past the Sulyya skyreach prevented the corners of the ancient paper from curling. The most fragile of the documents had been copied on hardier paper, with the original sheaves filed out of harm's way.

Pocketing the cloth she had used to oil the components of her saber, Lightning collapsed the exposed blade and sheathed it in one fluid motion before approaching the desk. She regarded the analects with a cursory glance, relocating the weights at their corners to the desk drawer and carefully storing the papers in the topmost pouch of the storage pack over her left thigh. Scuffed as it was, the leather pack was nonetheless capable of protecting the papers and their contents from additional weathering.

Pulling on her gloves, she went through the list of preparations that had formulated in her mind. Sleep had not come easily, though the necessity of an early start gradually warded away the recurring thoughts that led to waking nights. Waking with the dawn, she reviewed the analects acquired during her first venture to Gran Pulse, and those that had come into her possession since the foundations of Niflheim were built. During the previous evening, Snow informed her of Hope's discovery in the Massif Ark; however, dissection of scripture both old and new had provided no further information about Asura.

Perusal of the analects and maintenance of her saber eliminated the impatience that threatened to make an appearance as she waited for the appropriate hour - once Snow and Serah had woken and invested in breakfast - to call Sazh and Hope over. The strike on the north end of the square resulted in few casualties, but the wealth of sustained injuries varied in severity. As Lady Luck would only favour them for so long, the former l'Cie could not afford to plan a potential course of action over a handful of days. With an undetermined pattern of attack, there was no guessing how much time was at their disposal until Asura exacted its next act of devastation on the civilization infecting its home.

The floorboards creaked under a gentle weight, summoning Lightning from her contemplation.

"Feeling better?"

Idling near the doorframe, Serah gave a slight shrug in response, "I never knew it could take so much out of you," she admitted, recalling her support of the Transport's foundations.

"The first time around," Lightning told her, impressed and still somewhat surprised by her sister's fortitude, "When it comes to conserving what you can, you'll get the hang of it."

"Let's hope so," Serah laughed. In spite of this, the former soldier was alerted by the distant falter in her words. Facing her sibling, Lightning sent her a direct look - calm enough to refrain from expressing hostility, but with enough authority to demand that she stop dodging around the subject on her mind.

Previous experience taught the younger Farron that attempting to deny the matter was futile. As such, Serah broached the subject without hesitance, scanning the desk in awareness of the absent analects.

"I guess you've planned everything out, then?"

Lightning inclined her head in the direction of the kitchen, inhabited by a murmur of voices. "Far as I can tell," she said, going through the intended plan out of habit, "Sazh, Snow and his side of the family are rounding up a strike force to track the fal'Cie, and buy some time for the relocation."

With the abrupt decrease in distance between the earthquakes and populated areas, it had been unanimously decided that momentary relocation was in order. Until the cause of the quakes was addressed or, in the more likely event of the land supporting and surrounding Niflheim undergoing an inquest to determine its stability, the population of the main residential areas would be the first to depart. An assortment of airships, on standby and incoming, would transport them to the encampment based in and around the aerodrome based in the Tsubaddran Highlands. Sudden as this decision was, the frequency and growing proximity of the tremors was enough of an incentive to make the majority of people as cooperative as possible to speeding up the relocation efforts.

"Might take a few days," Serah commented. Even with the combined forces of the ISD and ESD maintaining civilian welfare, organization and clearance would take a fair amount of time. Similarly, Snow and Sazh would have their work cut out for them in regards to enlisting pilots and fighters to whom they could entrust the knowledge of a fal'Cie hunt.

"Depends," Lightning shrugged, earning a bemused look. "They'll be on their way, once Hope's done with the fine tuning."

The younger Farron shook her head, unable to deny a smile at the recent memory of her and Bartholomew's insistence for Hope to address the matter of breakfast before he and Sazh besieged the kitchen table in a whirlwind of blueprints, tools, and a certain robot. "Five centuries and still going strong," Serah mused, thankful that the grime Bhakti acquired during his Ark excursion had been cleaned prior to bringing him into their home.

Double-checking the replenished collection of ruin orbs in her coat pockets, the former soldier permitted a short silence to lapse between them. Her sister knew of the destination awaiting Lightning and Hope; moreover, she knew her older sister well enough to tell when she risked distancing herself all over again, if only to mask the slightest surfacing of remorse.

Leaning against the doorframe, Serah cautiously chose her words, "They're more than happy to help."

"That's the thing," Lightning said, refusing to meet her sibling's hopeful eyes, "They've already done more than we could have imagined." Her eyes narrowed, the hand at her side curling into a fist, "They gave their all, and what's our answer to that? Always thinking, always _saying_ we'll keep searching, won't stop fighting until we bring them home. Who the hell are we to ask anything more of them? At the end of the day... It's just pathetic."

The former soldier scoffed, relaxing her hand once the brewing frustration subsided. Serah looked to the floor, her optimism curdled by the culmination she had been expecting since Hope had last spoken of Vanille. For all the trials they had overcome in one another's company, her older sister was nonetheless of the mind that she did not know the amiable Oerban half as well as she should. Serah herself sought to know more of Fang, for stories and retold memories did little to bring her closer to thanking the headstrong woman for carrying her out of the labyrinth Vestige, when she had lost consciousness upon being branded.

Adhering the grav-con device to her thumb and forefinger, Lightning returned her focus to the civilian evacuation, "When Bartholomew and Dajh start boarding-"

"You expect me to go with them while you and Hope take off into the unknown."

Lightning faced her sister, catching the beginnings of a challenge in her tone, "I expect you to stay safe-"

"Sis, listen to me."

The shift from fledgling conflict to an earnest plea caught the former soldier off guard, forcing her to pause a moment before stepping down from her stern front and, with a dip of her chin, permit Serah to continue.

Confident in her words, Serah walked towards her, "You've been protecting me for as long as I can remember, even before we lost them. I'm grateful for everything you've done, but things have changed, since we were kids. I'm not afraid anymore, and I won't be helpless while you deal with my battles."

It often occurred to Lightning, that the hardest thing to accept from the loss of their parents was that they would never see the mature young woman their Serah had become. Now, as her sister stood before her with the sun's pale rays shifting over her and the newfound confidence glowing from within, Lightning understood that she no longer needed to wonder how proud Rose and Alten Farron would be.

"I might not be able to fight against you," Serah continued, "But I'll do whatever it takes to fight _with_ you."

* * *

Bartholomew examined his glasses for any sign or scrapes or scratch marks prior to returning them to their rightful place. While she was an endearing critter, by all means, Hina did not take kindly to any manner of item infringing on her potential perches. This peculiar attitude had occurred once or twice before; at the time, the offending object had been a black bandanna, though the Chocobo chick did eventually admit defeat. Hardly enamoured with the idea of brushing downy feathers off of his person, Bartholomew nonetheless resigned himself to the passive and ultimately wise decision of accommodating the whims of the pudgy chick.

At the head of the dining table, Sazh penned a footnote on the blueprints for the crystal engine radar being installed to Bhakti. The design was one of the earlier drafts conceptualized by Maqui and Gadot, though it had been scrapped due to the constraints presented by finding a crystal that was small enough to be integrated into the mechanical structure, while being able to support the demands of a carrier class airship. As the morning progressed, Sazh and Hope made a series of edits and side notes to the original concept, in order to construct a variation that was not detrimental to the current layout of Bhakti's interior functions.

Stowing away the last of the washed breakfast utensils, Snow dismissed Dajh from cleanup assistance and meandered around the counter, "You sure this'll work?" he asked the pilot, tugging on the collar of his coat, enhanced by the Solaris emblem.

Sazh scratched his chin, "Soon as we're underground, there's no chance of picking up any ship signals. From there on out, we'll only be picking up fal'Cie activity."

Mildly concerned that the robot's interior mechanisms would start spitting sparks at any moment, Bartholomew hovered near his son's shoulder, "I can't say I've seen anything quite like this before," he said. Not wishing to compromise his concentration, Hope accepted the inflection of praise with a smile, though Dajh took the liberty of pursuing curiosity.

"Really?" the child inquired, pulling at his father's sleeve as if he expected him to contradict the other man.

"Technology was real different, back in our day," Sazh chuckled, lifting Dajh up onto his knee, "One thing's for sure, we didn't have any of that 'monitor and keyboard all in one' nonsense going on."

Entering the kitchen, the Farron sisters lingered by the counter and observed the conversation. Snow acknowledged them with a wave before branching out from the pilot's anecdote, "Let me guess - cells didn't get any bigger than a deck of cards?"

"You couldn't be father from the truth."

"Now _that_ was a novelty."

Hope finished the last of the rewiring as the laughter died down, his success glad that none of his circuits had been negatively affected by the installation.

"Alright," Snow grinned, "Time for him to check out the front lines-"

Exclamations and the reflex of clapping hands over ears resulted in the wake of the piercing, mechanized trill that interrupted the burly man. Much to the relief of those within range of the robot and his protest, Hope disabled Bhakti's vocal routers in record time.

"Okay, okay, it's not that big of a deal," Hope assured, attempting to abate Bhakti's reaction to Snow's particular description of his part to play in the hunt for Asura, "I mean, if you don't want to do this for Vanille, we understand completely."

The shutters on the robot's optic lens narrowed vehemently at Snow, though his determination to go through with the proposed plan was evidenced by his retreat into a phase of hibernation, as a means of last-minute recharging.

While Hope enabled the vocal gears once more, Lightning took her apprentice and her sister into account, considering the road that awaited them.

By this time tomorrow, they would be standing at the foot of Cocoon.

* * *

**Notes:** The name of Lightning and Serah's mother, Rose, was coined by Reading Chick, and alludes to Rosa, a character from FFIV; the shape of Lightning's Eidolon crystal, and the sisters' hair colour. The name of their father, Alten, is derived from the surname of Sarah Altney, a character from FFIII.


	20. Chapter 20

20

"_It's getting harder to hear them."_

"_Don't fool yourself, Vanille. This was bound to happen. It's not like we were always meant to stay in touch with their lives."_

"_And it's not like you to give up so easily!"_

"_There's a difference between 'giving up' and 'preferring to hear nothing at all, rather than listening to them lament when they should be getting on with their lives'."_

"_So 'hang in there' doesn't ring any bells-"_

"_We're done with this-"_

"_But she's _not_."_

"_..."_

"_And neither are you, Fang."_

"_Just this once, that's all I'm asking-"_

"_Alright, fine. But this isn't the end of it."_

"_Not until we crumble."_

"_...I walked into that one, didn't I?"_

"_Yep. Blindly."_

"_Thought so."_

"_You ever hear our fellas from the Tower roaming about?"_

"_No. They're still up to the usual, I imagine. Hunting down hidden evil of all sorts."_

"_Yeah. Must've been hell for them, gathering dust in that spire."_

"_Especially since they were meant to protect all of Gran Pulse."_

"_The Steppe fal'Cie sure thought of it that way. I can't say Dahaka was the sharpest tool in the kit, thinking he could get away with swiping the lot of them out from under their creator's nose."_

"_Did he ever pay for it - it's lucky Titan didn't smash the whole Tower to rubble! Maybe he felt sorry for Dahaka, after Asura abandoned him?" _

"_As if we'll ever know. In the end, the selfish cur died as he lived." _

"_Do you think Asura knows?"_

"_Her mind's long gone, Vanille. It wouldn't be much of a shock if she never saw him as anything but a means to an end."_

"_Well, then. All the more reason for our friends to teach her a thing or two about defiance!"_

"_Inevitable, really."_

"_... They'd be sure to tell us all about it, right?"_

"_You kidding? We'd figure a way to haunt them if they didn't!"_

"_Even if... Actually, never mind that."_

"_..."_

"_..."_

"_Come on now, Missy."_

"_Well... It'd be more fun to get after them, face-to-face."_

"_At least we have our memories."_

"_Better than nothing."_

"_That they are."_

"_Always?"_

"_... Sure thing."_


	21. Chapter 21

21

Rows of airships idled along the outskirts of Niflheim, towering over crowds of people who were progressively shifting into organized lines as the afternoon wore on. ISD personnel strategically placed themselves among the hordes of civilians, while ESD patrols guarded the perimeter facing the neighbouring wilderness.

In light of the final boarding call for families supporting young children, elders, or those requiring assistance, one particular collection of individuals bid farewell to their nearest and dearest, prior to departing to their three respective destinations. Knelt down to his son's height, Sazh's uncertainty of the hours to come was briefly forgotten as Dajh promised that he and Hina would behave in his absence. Despite previous difficulty in communicating with Hope, Bartholomew succeeded in expressing his wish for his son to make a safe return home. Knowing there remained scarce time until they went their separate ways, Snow and Serah stood close to one another, trying to lessen their underlying fears with light conversation.

Lightning lingered a few feet away from the interactions. Practical reflection of this action convinced her that this distance existed to prevent the risk of interfering with the sentiments of fathers to sons and the bond of a couple. A modicum of doubt tried to mar her reasoning, boasting that she did this to feel less out of place, to accept the loneliness she had fought to deny upon initially hearing of the man who had swept her sister off of her feet. Recurring as it was, Lightning snuffed out the sense of resignation at the back of her mind and inclined her head towards Dajh as he enthusiastically waved farewell before dragging Bartholomew further into the line up.

The former soldier fell into file with her family as they left the boarding aisles, picking their way around scraps of metal and discarded equipment that recalled the early days in which the outskirts had served as a repair yard for automata units and vehicles. Looking over his shoulder to monitor his father and the child's progression towards safety, Hope noticed an ISD velocycle guiding traffic from the farther reaches of the residential lanes towards the improvised parking space.

"How are you getting everyone to the Subterra?" Hope asked Snow, once they were out of earshot. To make the relocation process as quick and efficient as possible, the licensing of rental vehicles had been momentarily restricted from any effort that did not benefit the transportation of civilians from their homes to the docking yard.

"After the Misfortune, we put some Golems on stand-by near the tunnels heading to the Springs," the burly man informed him as they started to trek down the alleyways leading to the business district, "Getting the team there was a bit of a hassle, but Yuj and the guys managed to pull it off."

"Got by the ISD patrols on account of 'inventory recall' after the other night," Sazh explained, "The things you kids get away with these days..."

Serah affectionately nudged his elbow, "It's not like we're hurting anyone," she reminded him.

"Can't say the same for that fal'Cie," Snow said, somewhat half-hearted as the group reached the end of the alley, before it lead into the main streets of the district. From here, Snow and Sazh would continue on to the storage shed behind the Helicon, wherein lay a velocycle that would bring them to the strike force waiting in the Springs proper.

"Give it our regards," Lightning advised, her grim air offset by the concern in Serah's eyes.

"You'll be careful, won't you?" the younger Farron pleaded as she embraced her fiancé.

Leaving the couple to their parting assurances, Lightning followed Sazh to the end of the alley, from where they peered out into the empty street. "Last time I checked, there were some modified Falco's parked about three blocks from here," he told her, rummaging through his coat pocket for a palm-sized crystal, affixed with engine-compatible components. Handing it to her, he went on, "Replace the current fuel source with this, soon as you've dealt with the alarm. This should be enough to get you there and back."

Beckoning Hope over, the former soldier entrusted the engine core to his expertise. "Make sure he stays in one piece," she advised the pilot, giving a discreet glance towards Snow.

"Never got tired of that one," he laughed, briefly resting a hand on Lightning's shoulder, "You better take care out there."

Lightning gave a good-natured scoff at the parental intonation, "Bit late to start grounding us," she teased. Sazh waved away her humour, ruffling Hope's hair and wishing all the best to Serah before he and Snow turned the alley corner.

The younger Farron gazed after them, subconsciously reaching for the pendant of her necklace. Scratching the back of his neck, the silver-haired teen walked up to her side, "Trust me," he said, "He's a tough guy. Nothing'll stop him from coming back to you."

Letting her hand fall to her side, Serah smiled in appreciation. Once the shadows of the duo had slipped out of sight, she and Hope headed down the opposite end of the alley, where their guardian waited.

"All set?" Lightning asked, receiving replies of affirmation from the adolescents. Though her sister had a strong current of magic under her command, the former soldier had taken the precaution to lend her a sheath and survival knife therein, should she find herself in a situation that required it. Prior to arriving to the airship lot, Hope returned home to equip the Hawkeye and Alicanto boomerangs; to this day, Lightning silently questioned how it was possible for Hope to stuff one, much less two of the weapons in his pants pocket. Even so, she never felt particularly motivated to search for an answer.

With her back to the wall of the building flanking the alley, the former soldier scanned the street for any signs of traffic or Security personnel, referring to the silver-haired teen in case his sharp hearing caught something she initially missed, such as the sound of incoming vehicle engines.

On her lead, the trio darted across the road, pausing every so often in awareness of their surroundings before clearing the next two lanes. Prior to proceeding on to the last block between them and the velocycles glinting in the distance, Lightning picked up on a peculiar exchange, looking over her shoulder to see Hope surrender an item to Serah's ownership.

"What's your excuse?" Lightning smirked, having caught the glint of wire cutters, in spite of the adolescent's attempt at a subtle transaction. She made note to have a word with Snow's branch of the family about teaching her sister the more unscrupulous methods of getting a velocycle up and running; however, combining this with Hope's knowledge effectively solved any problem that would arise from taking out the alarm and enabling the ignition.

"Emergency ESD deployment." Serah told her, casually pulling the hem of her shirt over the tool handles, which were not completely concealed by her skirt pocket.

"Pack of Mánagarmr spotted out east." Hope added.

Amused, the former soldier surveyed the street once more, which cemented the unlikelihood of encountering an ISD hold-up, much less having to employ their justification for skulking away from the relocation efforts.

With no obstacles in sight, Lightning motioned for them to stay on her heels, "Let's move out."


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N:** All the chapters from 19 onwards pretty much qualify among my list of favourites. xD

* * *

22

"This is ridiculous."

Wading through the nearly waist-high level of water that had coursed down from the Steppe and into the Subterra, Yuj frowned at Gadot's complaint. "Ridiculous as in we all wasted about two-fifty each on these shoes, or ridiculous as in we're betting our luck on the guidance of..." he paused, glancing ahead, "Well, it's a bit small for an automaton."

"It's just a robot, I guess," Lebreau suggested before looking to Maqui, "No offense, but it's hard to see that little guy from here and _not_ think we're being led on by a sentient toaster."

"Exactly," Gadot grumbled, shouldering his rifle.

Leading the motley score of shocktroopers, automata pilots and gunners, Sazh set a wary eye on Bhakti, who reacted to the conversation carrying on a few feet behind them with a menacing whir. The robot's mood had seen scarce improvement since wheeling lens first into the puddles preceding the partial submersion of the caverns—an incident that left Bhakti to suffer the indignity of being carried under Snow's arm as the group moved further into the mines.

"How're we doing so far?" Snow inquired, all too familiar with the banter of his siblings by any other name.

Sazh adjusted the scope of the hand-held screen tracking Bhakti's signal of the fal'Cie's crystal. "We're still on the right track," he debriefed.

The burly man lowered his voice out of their comrade's hearing range, having sensed something more to the pilot's tone. "What's wrong with that?" he asked.

"Nothing, as far as it seems," Sazh replied, pulling a second window in from the control panel and placing it to the side of the map, "But we should think about taking ten, maybe twenty. Almost past midnight, up top."

Bhakti's soft, repentant whistle lessened Snow's disappointment towards the news. By this point, he had hoped for them to be well on their way to engaging the fal'Cie in combat. Regardless, he refrained from taking this out on Bhakti, for he was well aware that the robot had outdone himself in the last two weeks.

"Keep up the good work, buddy," Snow encouraged him, earning a spirited intonation from the robot. Facing the strike force, the burly man issued the order to shut down the Golems and take a rest—a decision that was met with sound approval.

While the team clambered on top of the automata and vehicles in the attempt to dry off, Sazh lingered, glaring at the yawning cavern that awaited their progression.

"You hear that?" he asked Snow, folding his arms over his chest as recognition of the faint, fading call alighted his eyes.

Unaware of their revelation, Yuj was subsequently agitated by a shiver that ran down his spine, prompting him to cast a disquieted look about his surroundings. Shaking off the strange feeling, he caught the sceptical look Lebreau sent his way. "Must be mental," the fashionable teen joked lamely, his embarrassment alleviated when Gadot clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Get real," he told him. "You're just as crazy as the rest of us—"

He fell silent as a thunderous whisper echoed past them, summoning confusion and defensive guards among the strike force. The tunnels did not tremble; the surface of the water remained undisturbed, as though the ancient sigh did not exist beyond their minds.

A hush descended on the tunnels, disrupted only by the monotonous hum of automata engines. Collective intakes and shouts of surprise arose when a series of flickering blue embers gathered at the side of the cavern, mere feet from where Sazh and Snow stood. Swallowing his anxiety, Maqui reached for the crowbar stowed beneath the passenger's seat of the velocycle in his possession, yet Lebreau dissuaded his intention.

"Hold it," she cautioned, keenly noting the lack of tension in the stances of the former l'Cie as the shards of light began to orbit an aura, which soon thickened into a turquoise haze.

For a split second, the core of the occurrence flared, drenching the tunnel in a searing flash of light before vanishing entirely. In its place stood a granite figure, clad in armour and countless, carved series of intricate runes. The vaguely leonine face of the statue surveyed the assortment of mortals before looking upon Snow and Sazh, to whom it lowered its head in greeting.

The indication of an alliance drew Maqui out of his fascination towards the massive claymore held in the statue's right hand. "You know this guy?" the teenager called to the burly man.

"We've had some fun times," Snow shrugged.

Without the aid of the Oerban's translation, the two were thusly unable to decipher the statue's rumbling words of wisdom. However, spying a number of recently-acquired dents and scars along the edge of the warrior's claymore was a clear enough affirmation that they were well on their way to encountering the fal'Cie.

As its advice faded, the statue transitioned the hilt of its weapon to the grasp of both hands and anchored it to the ground. The subsequent wave dispersed across the water's surface, taking no more of a toll on the state of the former l'Cie's clothing than the runoff already did.

"Only a matter of time," Sazh murmured aloud. Returning to their comrades while the statue commenced its vigil over their safety, Snow looked over his shoulder and wondered how the rest of the Menhirrim fared with hunting Asura out of her hiding place.

* * *

Hours and miles away, Lightning draped the last of the felled broadleaf branches over the parked velocycle, depending on this and the cover provided by the overhanging husk of a warped, dead tree to keep the vehicle out of the sight and minds of fiends. Huddled shoulder to shoulder, Hope and Serah were woken from their short, nonetheless restorative sleep on the backseat by the biting atmosphere. Despite the ascent of a pale dawn, the growing warmth of the sun was hindered by the cold presence of crystalline matter.

Flexing her fingers, the former soldier turned her back to the hidden velocycle. They would need to maintain steady progress in order to prevent the chill from seeping to their muscles and tendons. Presently, the trio stood together, their breath misting as they took in the glittering structure.

The pillar supporting Cocoon was as breathtaking as it was treacherous. Swathes of translucent magma leapt from the foot of the column in jagged, paralyzed imitations of tidal waves. Layered plates of crystal, mimicking the bark of centuries-old trees, formed a sturdy base and branched out into a cluster of starbursts directly beneath the frozen world.

Blinking at the light glinting off of the vigilant Eidolons, curved around the shell of Cocoon, Hope steeled himself against the grief that had prevailed, the last time he looked to this world and the sacrifice that saved it. Gazing at the self-sustaining light pulsing at the core of the pillar, Serah took a breath and prayed that the harbingers of salvation had fared well in their absence.

Without looking back, Lightning strode forward.

* * *

The distorted figures of aerial Cie'th swooped in and around the ridges of the pillar like carrion birds, their shrill cries piercing the cold winds that carried down from Oerba Village. Watchful of the soaring blights, the trio ducked under the maze of crystal archways. A wealth of alcoves and passageways were naturally fashioned into the pillar, as a result of air reacting with the melding of lava and crystal dust. In spite of this, the trio made sure to scrutinize the caverns with the most favourable accessibility—dead ends were a likely possibility, though less so than the likelihood of having to maneuver through a network of tunnels that offered no friction or support.

After a half hour, their search was rewarded after climbing up to the third tier of serrated waves. To this point, the consistency of the crystal underfoot had been uneven and durable. Within the cavern, however, there was a fair amount of smooth, unblemished surfaces breaking up the continuous, coarse path. Listening for the wails of any forsaken souls that might be inhabiting the lower tunnels, Lightning led the adolescents at a steady pace, the walls and ceilings mirroring their every move.

As the morning wore on, they closed in on the base of the column without incident, save for the inevitable scrapes and bruises that came from the abrupt adaptation to their surroundings.

"Is it any better up ahead?" Serah inquired, struggling to keep her balance on the smooth, opalescent floor.

"Somewhat," Lightning replied, observing sparse expanses of crystallized, volcanic rock encroaching on the slippery ground before them.

Following her line of sight, Hope frowned, "Somewhat?" he repeated, "That's like saying a ceratosaur is a 'somewhat' aggressive tadp—_umph_!"

Resisting a small smirk, the former soldier stepped around the uneven, shallow depression her apprentice had tripped over, and hauled him up to his feet.

No sooner had Hope regained his stance did a wordless, powerful roar resonate through their ears. Serah's instinctively concentrate defensive, silver wisps to the palm of her hand, though dismissed the spell upon seeing the silver-haired teen share a wistful expression with her sister.

"Still going strong," Lightning mused, the voices of the Eidolons reclaiming silence as they returned their attention to fortifying the crystal structure.

Resting his palm against the wall of the cavern, Hope stared at the previous location of his brand, "I wonder if having them around would make this any easier," he thought aloud.

"Who knows?" the former soldier said, estimating how many unpredictable, sloping caverns still separated them from the heart of the column's strength, "If they don't have any suggestions on how to take down that fal'Cie, they might give an opinion on that, at least."

"I'd leave it to Vanille," Hope smiled, unknowingly giving Serah the opportunity to speak her mind on a related matter.

"When we get there, if we had a chance to, well..." she hesitated, leaving the motive that had been hounding them since the fall of Cocoon unsaid, "What do you think it would take?"

Hope withdrew his hand from the wall with a pang of sadness, as if he had been waiting on an upbeat reply. "It'll probably sound stupid," he began, digging his hands into his pockets. "But I always thought, I mean, if something like that would ever work... we could just talk to them. Remind them that they've got family waiting for them, that Orphan and Barthandelus, and any other fal'Cie, will never hurt them again."

Serah's spirits soared in light of his theory, though Lightning retained a noncommittal expression. She was not about to destroy the adolescent's idealism, yet she remained unsure of how much information, if any at all, Fang and Vanille would have to offer in regards to defeating Asura. By that extent, their chances of restoring them were even less certain.

Refusing to let this dictate her judgment, Lightning rose above the parasitic doubt and vowed to keep an open mind; for the sake of Hope and Serah, and the memory of her refusal to believe nearly costing all that was and would be dear to her.


	23. Chapter 23

23

Velocycle headlights flooded the cavernous den facing the strike force as the Subterra shook to its darkest depths. Dust curled down from the ceiling of the mines, worsening the state of the murky, choppy water as the team hastened to ready the predetermined combat settings for manadrives and ensure that not a spare clip of ammo would be wasted. The wrecking ball function of the Golem's predecessors had been remodelled to accommodate the deployment of cables for excavating and construction purposes. However, the integration of the Orion's design enabled the team to empower the cables with the sparkstorm defence, while modification of its frame allowing them to install shoulder mounted firearms.

Jogging down the line of automata and shock troopers, should the need of last minute assistance arise, Sazh approached the Golem at the right end of the assembly, where Gadot and Maqui were ensuring that the sparkstorm mechanism had not been severely jostled by the tremors.

"Careful not to pull anything out there," Gadot told him, his humour accompanied by anticipation for the imminent assault.

"Could say the same for you," the pilot replied, though his countenance remained grim. Stepping down from the Golem, Maqui noticed how the older man stared out into the den, beyond which echoed the force of the Menhirrim's efforts to divert the fal'Cie's intended path of destruction.

The teenager peered around Sazh, the diminishing distance between them and the roar of battle causing his hands to tremble, "There's a pretty big chance we might... What I mean to say is, do you think we'll be able to...?"

At this, the pilot sighed, dropping his gaze from the den. The days in which he was weary of the world, of tabloids and the uncertainty of his effectiveness as a father felt so far behind him, yet recalling them bolstered his perseverance. He would guarantee the survival of these young fighters, and do everything in his power to make Asura pay for the one too many lives it had taken.

With the Total Eclipse pistols at his sides, loaded and awaiting the deliverance of retribution, Sazh walked forward. Cheerful encouragement and a confident chuckle were forever in reach of his memories; thus did the pilot take them to heart while calling out to the strike force, looking to each and every one of them as he spoke.

"We're not about to face your average mark, here. That thing means business, and the only sure way to send it back into the ditch it came from is to work together. Until we've got the advantage, I want all of you to stay in formation, look out for one another, and give it hell!"

The atmosphere of renewed courage was palpable, even as the Menhirrim returned as a collective. The aura of their teleportation dispersing, they flanked the strike force, claymores drawn in preparation for a continued attack. Having stowed Bhakti away in the relative safety of a velocycle's storage unit, Snow took his stand beside Sazh, at the front of their retaliation. He raised his fist to the sky, and shouted above their target's thundering charge.

"What's our motto?"

"Fal'Cie are no match for Niflheim!"

Frothing waves crashed against the sides of the den as its far wall was shattered, sending a hail of rock across the battlefield. The Menhirrim took flight, severing or outright fragmenting any boulders that came within range of the team. They returned to their stations as the spray of water and sheets of dust settled before the colossal entity.

The pale, burning core of Asura's energy was encased in the epicenter of a complex, reptilian shell. Her crowned head barely fell short of chipping the ceiling of the den and bore the tolls of her slumber - a once purely mechanical appearance was infested with claws of lichen and moss, with deep veins of water erosion etched into the surface of her plated scales, layered in the pattern of goanna reptiles. The precise length of her form was unknown, for the once spacious den was occupied by no more than the fal'Cie's torso.

Asymmetric, rusted bars were crafted over the fal'Cie's face gave the illusion that her unblinking pair of blind eyes existed as a multitude of small, piercing ones. Smoking coils of crystal energy billowed from her mesh nostrils as Asura looked down upon the strike force. As though reflecting contemplation, she stroked the surface of the churning water with the fins at her sides, the structure of which imitated the detached quills of a navidon.

Throwing back her head, she imprinted her thunderous roar in the minds of all life on Gran Pulse.

* * *

Succumbing to dismemberment, the taxim crystallized upon impact as it crashed into the floor of the cavern. With a swift back flip, Lightning gave herself the necessary distance to pierce the wings of an incoming nelapsi with a hail of bullets. As it careened into a stalagmite, the former soldier nimbly ascended the crumbled remains of the taxim, similar to taking two steps at a time, and leapt up to the tunnel above. The hulking Cie'th had pummelled the floor of the tunnel until it gave way, though ultimately compromised a pre-emptive strike on their part due to a chorus of incessant shrieking.

Mindful of the crystal structure's alternating consistency, Lightning rejoined Hope and Serah as their continued their sprint up the sloping cavern. The cold light of the pillar's interior was periodically overwhelmed by sunlight pooling in from the gaps and clefts in the column wall, looking out into the land below. While this enlightened the trio to the time consumed by their expedition, the natural imperfections had already permitted an influx of winged Cie'th to actively pursue them or herald their presence to their shambling brethren.

Staying close to the main support of the pillar, Lightning paused and stared above, allowing the adolescents to catch their breath while she tried to distinguish the lumbering forms of any Cie'th overhead. Since their progression into the base of the structure, the faint light emanating from the chamber housing Vanille and Fang had grown stronger.

"At this rate, we'll make it there by sunset," she informed her sister and her apprentice. Hope's reply was stalled as the trio leapt to their defences, in the wake of a ringing bellow. Pulses racing, the tension eased from their stances as, discreetly, they glanced out from one of the clefts and searched for any sign of a gargantuan fiend roaming the land.

Drawing back, they continued on their way. "Is it just getting closer, or louder?" Hope questioned, shrugging off the beginnings of dread that surfaced at the sound of the fal'Cie.

"Not for much longer," Lightning reminded him, kindling their faith in the strike team.

A horde of shadows cut past the sunlight, alerting the trio to a flock of six nelapsi barrelling towards them. From her vantage point, Serah waited for the Cie'th to return to the previous formation that had inspired her plan, prior to sending a silver bolt at the lead nelapsi. As opposed to suspending it, the gravity spell weighed down the forsaken soul's wings, bringing it crashing down on the two that had been flying beneath it.

"Nice hit!" Hope praised, soon setting the Hawkeye on a trajectory that clipped the left wing of the farthest nelapsi, disorienting it long enough for the boomerang to soar back and cuff its head, causing it to crash into its nearest accomplice.

"Nothing like evening the odds," Serah smiled as the squabbling Cie'th fell victim to a ruin orb, while a set of shots eliminated the remaining Cie'th.

Catching the returning boomerang, Hope saw that a sheet of crystal dust had settled on the weapon. He brushed it away, yet was further perplexed as a cloud of the fine particles drifted down and parted over his shoulder.

The subsequent, creaking strain that crawled across the ceiling incited the trio to race ahead, their harried footfalls and the screech of a vetala preceding the dislocation and descent of innumerable stalactites caving in the tunnel.


	24. Chapter 24

24

Muffling a sneeze against the back of his hand, Hope blinked the crystal dust out of his eyes, only to scramble back upon seeing the vetala's outstretched pincers poised mere inches from his face. His back pressed to the pillar wall, he gave a heavy sigh when realizing the fall from the upper caverns and impalement by stalactites prevented the albite corpse from pursuing him.

Recalling a recent incident dealing with the hazards of dust, Hope pulled his scarf over his nose before shaking the crystal particles out of his hair. He managed to stay on his feet and sustained little more than glancing strikes from the ceiling fragments during the collapse, yet regarding his knowledge of Lightning and Serah's welfare, his luck had run out.

The force of the impact had stricken the mound of rubble with a frosted effect, making it impossible for him to see through the translucent debris. Testing the stability of the obstacle, so soon after the cave in, was not something Hope sought to take his chances with, though he was none too satisfied with lacking another option in regards to figuring how great of an obstacle lay between him and his companions.

A sharp pain in his right leg summoned his attention as he stood up, leading him to grit his teeth at the small, seeping wound. The revitalizing glow of a cure spell swirled at his fingertips, but he chose to dismiss the spell and resort to binding the gash with the kerchief tied around his left wrist. In this situation, he needed to conserve as much magic as possible until he found a way back to the designated path.

Taking a step back from the barrier, Hope's stomach dropped when he saw that the wreckage carried on to the middle of the tunnel overhead, eliminating the likelihood of being able to scale the wall and pull himself up through a crevasse caused by the vetala's attack. Pulling the scarf down around his neck, he surveyed his surroundings for any sign of Cie'th alerted by the tremors before shouting out.

"Light! Serah! Are you guys alright? Can you hear me?" Glancing down to the cavern below, his refused to dwell on the worst of what could have befallen them.

"Where are you?"

"Down here!" he replied, his relief ebbing away as he tracked Serah's worried call to a pair of shadows flitting over the floor of the cavern overhead, "... Where we came from."

Despite their degree of separation, Hope could still hear Lightning scoff at their situation. In response to this, the slighter of the two shadows paced towards the rubble.

"Is there any way we could try—" Serah began, but was presumably met with a shake of her sister's head.

"Even with all of our magic combined, it might not be enough to dig him out of there," Lightning pointed out, stepping closer to the barrier, "If there's a weak spot near here, we could try breaking through."

"What if the rest of it doesn't hold up?" Hope said, considering the state of the structure as a whole, "There could be a chain reaction—we could be pushing our luck as it is."

Realizing his intention, Lightning's tone flared, "If you think we're going to go and abandon—"

"I can do this!"

His words hung in the air, the ensuing silence lingering for a doubtful stretch of seconds before he added, "I'll find another way. Besides, you shouldn't keep them waiting."

A shift in the shadows indicated a look exchanged by the sisters, following a moment of reconsideration. Finally, Lightning's reply carried down to him.

"We'll come running, if you're not there within an hour of us."

Hope offered a determined nod, "See you there."

Waiting until the shadows went on their way, the silver-haired teen retraced his steps, examining the foundation of the pillar for any niches. The alcoves diminished in size, the closer they came to the core of the column. Not particularly fond of thinking back to his last encounter with tight spaces, Hope nonetheless acknowledged his experience in being able to manuever through claustrophobic circumstances.

A handful of paces away from their encounter with the flock of nelapsi, Hope came across a crevice reminiscent of a spider's web. Scanning the area, misgivings plagued him upon seeing the consequence of losing his footing or misjudging a ledge. However, the variety of interwoven arches and craggy ripples decreased the dire nature of the sheer climb, and gave a promising view of the Oerban's chamber.

Judging the strength of the arch overhead, he fastened his fingers around it and hoisted himself up from the foot of the crevice. Visualizing the route before him in the maze of crystal webbing, he came closer to the wall of the abyss and scaled on from there, carefully crossing over the bridges and bracing himself whenever a Cie'th shriek came within earshot.

At the time of the cave in, the afternoon had been young, but with the walls of the abyss closing him off from the outermost cavern, Hope was unsure as to whether or not he was any closer to fulfilling or falling short of Lightning's compromise. He stalled briefly to rest his weight on his uninjured leg and felt an uncanny sense of disquiet when a lukewarm draft swept past the nape of his neck.

Daring to look down, Hope immediately clung closer to the wall as the nelapsi announced their presence, their buffeting wing beats attempting to snatch the air from his lungs as they roosted on the arches.

The silver-haired teen ducked his head, trying to shield himself from the Cie'th's taunts. Even with the enhancement of magic, his boomerangs were rendered useless in the close confines of the abyss. No one would leap to his aid, Alexander could no longer obey his command.

But it would not end here.

Retracting the influence of magic from the boomerangs, Hope reached out and continued on. With a shrill screech, one of the nelapsi barrelled towards him, the cry ripped from its throat as a shockwave of thunder threw it back.

The motive that Hope had harboured, all these months, took control of his every action to come. He would no longer settle for wishing, or simply speaking to his martyred friends. Faith encouraged him to seize this opportunity and the future in which he would look upon the smiling, breathing Oerbans.

"Vanille!" He yelled, with all his might, "Please, wake up! Cocoon, its lies and fal'Cie—we've got nothing to fear from them. You've completed your Focus, you don't need to rest!"

Angered by their defiant prey, the nelapsi dove towards him. Upon coming within two feet of Hope, they were thrown back in convulsions as forks of the crackling spell struck them.

Regaining his footing in the shower of sparks, Hope pressed on, "The fal'Cie won't brand you again—as your friends and your family, we will never let that happen!"

The ache in his leg intensified as his energy was spent towards the continuous strikes of thunder, yet Hope did not waver, "I won't give up, not after how far we've both come!"

Coughing against the smoke rising from the vanquished Cie'th, Hope strained to continue climbing towards an overhanging ledge.

"Vanille..." he persisted, dragging himself up to the edge of the cliff, "We will see Gran Pulse again. We'll live here, in this lifetime! I'll be there for you, we all will!"

Hope rolled onto his side, resting his head on the cool, crystal floor as his breath became shallow and his sight of the pillar blurred before surrendering to shadows.

"I promise..."

* * *

Past the chattering creeks of the Sulyya Springs and the wailing winds of Oerba, the lord of the Faultwarrens listened and cast his judgement.


	25. Chapter 25

25

Lightning's lips set in a thin line as the cacophony of Cie'th wails faded, plunging the cavern enclosing she and her sister into a tentative hush. Picking their way across the smooth, unbroken floor of the tunnel, they walked within arm's reach of one another, giving them enough space to unsheathe their weapons or jump to each other's defence in a moment's notice. The hazard of sunlight glinting off the mirroring surface was less prominent as they neared a maze of catacombs, from where the base of the pillar began to transition into the roots of the Oerban's chamber.

With the slope of the cavern steadily rising, Serah took pains to ease her way closer towards the curved wall, searching for a coarse grip to assist her progress. Seeking to lessen the risk of one's head being struck against the ground, much less the potential punctures that could result from a particularly forceful impact with the wall, Lightning took her sister's hand and gently ushered her to a more negotiable tract of crystal.

"Don't lock your knees," the former soldier advised, guiding them away from an overhanging nest of stalactites.

The younger Farron earned a degree of surprise from her sister, and herself, upon giving in to a shaky laugh, "So much for nothing being worse than the surf."

Her older sister reflected on the memory of Bodhum; pre-adolescent, carefree times that conjured their father's well-meant, though frequently unnecessary, worry. "The lack of thieving gulls is a plus," Lightning said, maintaining a ghost of a smile as Serah shot her a look of feigned mortification.

"That only happened once," she insisted, "... Or maybe twice. But the point is, I've held onto those bracelets ever since."

A sharp blast of wind rushed in from the gaping clefts in the outer wall, snuffing out their brief respite from the gravity of their excursion. The sisters held their ground against the frigid gale, yet remained where they were, even as the wind whistled out of their presence.

Fine, glittering particles drifted down to their feet as Lightning scrutinized the stalactites. Within seconds, several of the thin, spindly variations had dissolved entirely. The formations with superior foundation were unaffected, for the most part, though a storm or a succession of tremors would surely reduce them to a similar fate. All the same, this was not what captivated the focus of the Farron siblings, for they had looked to their destination and promptly made haste, for the glow at the core of the pillar shone half as bright.

* * *

Asura's fin crashed down upon the water, submerging the two Golems who were in the midst of unleashing a hail of manadrive-enhanced bullets at her crystal core. The attack ricocheted off of her layered scales, making the attempt to lodge the bullets under the plated flank in vain. Recovering from the wave, the remote-piloted Golems sent another flurry of bullets, now at the left fin of the fal'Cie.

The fal'Cie hardly received so much as a dent from the second strike, but the endowment of blizzard magic reached out to the serrated appendage and froze a fraction of its fluid movement. Three other Golems latched cables to the fin, endeavouring to maim it further. With alarming speed the fal'Cie clamped her jaws around the wires, comparable to threads of floss between the rows of jagged teeth, and severed them with ease. Wrenching the cables from her fin, she threw her head to the side and sent the cables screeching towards the nearest group of gunners.

Bearing down on her intended strike, the Menhirrim sliced the makeshift whips into pieces, allowing the cables to fall far from the division of the strike force. Any further attack was delayed as Asura raked her fins along the walls of the den, dislodging blinding clouds of dust and hefty boulders.

Barely managing to outrun the resulting waves, Sazh took cover behind one of the few standing velocycles, ignoring the protests of his muscles as he reloaded the pistols. In this time, a hand grenade found its mark near the joint of the fal'Cie's fin, its detonation drowned out by the entity's vicious growl.

The pilot raced out from the shelter of the vehicle and emptied a clip along the underside of Asura's jaw, providing Snow with enough of a distraction to make a tactical retreat behind a boulder. From there, the burly man hurled a second grenade, which struck the ice-scarred portion of the fin and took a sizeable chunk out of its edge.

"I've got enough left to take out the other side." Snow informed him as the Menhirrim repeatedly swung crescents of energy from the blades of the claymore until the joint gave way.

"What about the rest of it?" Sazh inquired, his voice hoarse as he yelled over the mutilated fin's deafening collision with the water, smashing the scattering of rocks and Golems with tidal aftershocks.

Once the pelting, tainted rain ceased, Snow glanced around the side of the boulder, "Our backup can start taking care of the crystal, while the rest of us-"

"Just us." Sazh deadpanned, having had a good idea that it would come to this from the beginning.

"Hey, we're pros when it comes to this sort of thing." Snow reminded him. Resisting the urge to put a palm to his forehead, the pilot readied himself for the sprint towards the right fin.

"I'll take the lead," he said to Snow, holding up a hand when the burly man attempted to argue with this. "I'm not fooling with you," Sazh went on, "There's only one way we're going home to our folks, and I'll be damned if this ain't it."

Though his past was not particularly enriched with paternal guidance, Snow had enough respect to accept the reprimand and the genuine concern it exuded.

Charging back into the fray, Snow tossed another grenade at the left of the fal'Cie's side, further aggravating the livid wound. Ahead of him, Sazh shot a series of ice-empowered bullets at the joint of Asura's right fin, preceding the torrent of firepower unleashed by a line of Golems ordered to follow his lead.

Without warning, the scales shielding the middle of Asura's neck flared out. Surging up from the crystal fuelling her immortality, a crackling shockwave of energy cut through the gritty air, further concaving the walls of the den and throwing down any mortal who stood.

Coming to his senses, Sazh coughed the water from his burning lungs and clung to the nearest boulder, steadying his shaken stance. Scouting his surroundings, he relaxed upon seeing the Menhirrim stationed before the divisions of the strike force who had been closest to the attack, their claymores absorbing the bulk of the counterattack.

Cries of alarm and sheets of grit hounded the shadow that fell over the pilot. Hs knees nearly buckled with the realization of the danger he had been washed under. Regardless, the fal'Cie's fin continued careening down to crush him.

Asura howled as the semiautomatic volley of bullets pierced the underside of her fin. The force of impact was enhanced by an aero spell, while a pair of goggles protected the vision of the gunman from the bane of water and dust.

"Screw off!" Maqui hollered, his endeavour to reload the spent clips intercepted by Sazh as the pilot caught him by the elbow, initiating their retreat before the fal'Cie recovered. From the cover of a boulder, they saw that Asura had reflexively lifted her fin higher, inciting the Menhirrim to soar forth and resume their attack.

Pistols at the ready, Sazh let Snow launch one last grenade before he left his cover and emblazoned the fin's joint with a merciless flurry of shots. The final strikes blasted the sparse, mechanical sinews, leading the fin to slam down into the water, resembling no more than a molten, smoking mass of metal and wasted crystal energy.

A ragged, hearty cheer sprang into the air as the fal'Cie collapsed in an exhausted coil, the shine of its pallid eyes waning. Regrouping, the strike force seized the indication of defeat; Gadot and Lebreau lifted Maqui onto their shoulders, hearkening a louder roar as he held the firearm over his head.

Standing apart from the celebration, the former l'Cie stayed on guard, their spines prickling with recollection of a similar situation, when all seemed in their favour and the patron saint of falsehoods sunk down to his apparent demise. Looking closer at Asura's fearsome mask, they froze upon following the line of its gaping mouth.

The morbid grin stared back at them as the scales lining the fal'Cie's form flared out like poisonous barbs, engaging a swift, shearing rotation before Asura launched into the nearest wall and burrowed out of sight.


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N:** Hues-of-hazel and Divine Wolfe, I hope this was worth the wait. ;3

* * *

26

Few had debated whether Cie'th depended more on audio or nasal sensory to track their prey, given that their gradual, petrified decline made their visuals among the first aspects of their original appearance to decay.

Dodging the tornado summoned by a penanggalan, Hope was not necessarily in the mood to contemplate the matter. Waking to find a flock of the salivating pests circling above his wounded leg had plunged him into the frantic instinct of survival, leading him to disperse the gathering with the Alicanto before taking refuge under an arch. Said arch had since been shattered by a whirlwind of aero spells and the continuous dive-bombing of the aerial Cie'th. Despite the ache of the untreated gash, the silver-haired teen persisted against the fiends, even as they crowed out for two more of their brethren to compensate for each one he felled.

Various clefts scarred the wall from where the cliff protruded, though from his current vantage point Hope could not determine which would lead him to his destination, or seal his fate at a dead end. Encroaching bellows further muddled his options, as the reflective crystal layers scattered the distribution of shadows and light, as well as the possibility that he would run headlong into another taxim or vetala.

There was no time for him to rest and regain the magic he had expended to deter the nelapsi. From here on out, he would have to rely on the aim and force of the boomerangs in proportion to the mutated crystals that powered the penanggalan, or where their wings connected to their malformed sockets. Evading larger Cie'th would require more willingness to chance the stability and direction of the alcoves, in spite of how it would restrict his only means of attack, especially if the winged Cie'th had the tenacity to claw their way after him.

A merge of two tornado attacks swept the fragments of the arch into flight. Clambering through one of the clefts, Hope shielded his head with his forearm while the crumbling projectiles exploded against the network of formations, raining crystal shards and grainy dust down into the abyss. Once the flock of shrill fiends soared higher above the cliff, trying to spy their persistent target, Hope abandoned his cover and sent both boomerangs to greet them.

En route to a higher alcove, the silver-haired teen undertook a pattern of attack influenced by his mentor. Staying a fair number of steps ahead of the nearest penanggalan, he jumped up and off from a pile of the Cie'th's crystallized corpses. Grabbing on to the overhanging, opalescent rung, he aimed a swift kick at the back of the penanggalan's head, which sent it hurtling into a stalagmite.

Dropping down to his feet, Hope caught the returning Hawkeye and sped onwards, obtaining another tagalong as the Alicanto continued disabling the razor wings of the fiends. Twisting around, he tossed the boomerang on an angle that enabled it to slice through the Cie'th's attempt to summon another twister. He retrieved it with the return of the second boomerang, storing them in his right pocket as he purposefully skidded and slid under an arch on his left side. The dogged pursuit of the wailing fiend was cut short as it failed to mimic his action and met its end as a frozen growth, forever melded to the curved frame.

Even after he fled through the cleft, Hope kept running until he happened upon a multitude of catacombs. Panting, he leaned on the nearest wall, slipping down to a crouch while wiping the sweat from his brow. On closer observation of the caverns, he quieted his haggard breath as he tracked a distorted shadow skulking about the tunnel above, easing back into a state of relative calm as it fled from view.

The vampire Cie'th's gnarled fist crashed through the wall, a hair's breadth away from Hope's head. Flinging himself out of the forsaken soul's reach, the silver-haired teen sprinted deeper into the catacombs, a yelp of shock torn from his throat as the ridge beneath his feet gave way.

Landing harshly on his shoulder, Hope turned his attention from the spread of pain as the shambling creature loomed before him, its guttural hiss rising above the gleeful clamour of the penanggalan as they hacked their way into the alcove. Hope bit back his fears and stood, refusing to surrender to the macabre mob as he withdrew the Alicanto.

At first glance, the black mist seemed to emanate from the center of the vampire's torso, its sweeping tendrils orbiting it as though it were an inertial barrier. Within seconds, the quailing screech of the Cie'th's life force being dragged back to its incinerating crystal heart prompted the winged Cie'th to flee from whence they came.

Hope took cover as the very energy that fuelled the vampire burst from its chest, the ignited shrapnel tearing through its body prior to plinking away into the depths of the cavern. Stunned, the silver-haired teen wandered around the Cie'th's remains, flinching as the last, reflexive twitch of its pincers preceding its crystallization.

Eyes shining, he looked forward.

Her hands trembled, transitioning from the adrenaline of her hectic sprint to her struggle to retain composure. "I thought we wouldn't have any regrets, with everything as it should be," she said, holding his gaze, "But... nothing's ever certain, is it?"

As she went on, her attempt to smile quavered and fell, "All this time, I knew you would keep fighting, and some things, some creatures would never leave give you a moment's peace. I kept thinking, that there would be a day when you might be standing alone, before so many evils, and that-"

Fiercely, she shook her head, "I could've been years, maybe centuries too late to try and help, to stand beside you, when you needed it most... and here, I might have been seconds away, a minute too slow..."

The crows of the penanggalan and all that was worldly fell away as he approached her, closing the distance between their trail of footprints, parting the drifts of glittering dust. Without a second thought, Hope sundered the pervasive threat of illusions and pulled her into a tight hug, burying his face against her neck as she wrapped her arms around him.

"It's a lot to handle," he whispered, taking in the beat of her heart, the tears that fell onto his shoulder, "Maybe too much." Drawing away, Hope overcame the rawness of his voice and continued, unwavering. "But we'll face this together."

Oerba Dia Vanille smiled, earnest and true.


	27. Chapter 27

27

_I don't suppose you'll be telling me what the weather's like out there, hey? Who am I to kid... It's a bit of a stretch to say we should have seen it coming, but you held onto those prayers, right from the start._

_Hah, I probably sound just as bad as our old man by now. I've got enough reason for it, sure. It's just that I can't stand... I understand that being here is protecting you and all we've come to have a heart for, but you're still not out of the woods. None of you are._

_Couldn't pick up any word from Sazh and Snow; just Light, your boy and the one and only Serah... Give her my best, won't you? She sounds just like you said, all kindness and caution. Course, that doesn't mean I won't know if the two of you get up to all manner of troubles for the rest of us to sort out._

_Not for a while longer, that is._

_Vanille, before I lost track of you, was I right in hearing you say something about Titan? I mean, you were scared, and you tried to hold on as long as you could, but I could've sworn you said he was dithering away at you, something to do with that 'worthy fighter' talk of his..._

_Talking at myself won't make those screws any tighter... A cracked master for a cracked Eidol - oh, don't even try it. I've been there before and you know it. No reason to start simmering at me._

_As for you, if you're still trekking around out here, where do I start this time? If this had come up any sooner, I'd have you know that this ain't worth the extra mile, or I'd give you an idea of... I've given it some thought, since then - Vanille's heard as much. See, with memories, there's always going to be a nightmare or two not far behind. Most of the time, those nightmares are things I've done, and they're mine to live with. But I believe in what could have been. I believe, if that fal'Cie wasn't coming to bring this place down on Gran Pulse, and if the Eidolons and I had another source of power to fall back on, you and I would be able to sort things out. We'll be fending off that attack soon enough. Just keep in mind that no power in this world or the next will ever shake my faith in you. _

_It was grand to hear from you, for as long as we did, and... Just make sure you bring the lot of them home, before that cretin gets here._

'_Lo, may our guardian Asura cleanse these sacred grounds of pestilent invasion'. That's right, I know what you've got your foggy sights set on. The nest of vipers, the seat of Fell Lindzei, hive of traitors. Call it what you will, churn out what the analects say - it sure ain't making you any wiser, you lazy old brute. I'm not about to let you slither on over and give my family heck before they've even waltzed out into the open. Might not look like I'm in any position to do anything, but the moment you try some funny business, hell's going to be fast approaching._

_Give m__e all you got, girlie. This pla__ce ain't heading for a spill anytime soon._


	28. Chapter 28

28

The silver threads of the gravity spell were almost undistinguishable from the natural and artificial lights shifting throughout the crystal pillar. Crossing the reinforced lattice structure of interconnecting bridges, Lightning encompassed the winding roads with tense observation, noting the conspicuous lack of Cie'th and thinning wisps of dust with the increasing elevation.

In the midst of the mid-afternoon rays, tremors ousted the bitter gales from their prominent occurrence, climbing the spine of Cocoon's foundation and bringing down scatterings of stalactite slivers. The base and foot of the pillar would endure the brunt of the shuddering force, as the catacombs therein experienced the most detriment and weight of the Cie'th swarms. Debating how to counter the predicament had resulted in a second division of paths; Serah took to retracing their steps in order to retrieve Hope from the threat upon him, while Lightning continued to the Oerban's chamber.

She had imbued the survival knife with a blizzard spell, capable of immobilizing any foe that came within a five foot radius of Serah, yet reluctance still curdled her conscience. Even though the situation was far from their favour, the former soldier warred with the notion of allowing another of her wards to brave the labyrinth alone. All the same, the glow of the pillar's strength remained halved, and their proximity to their destination had fuelled Serah's insistence for her to clear the final stretch of obstacles before them.

With a leap and a somersault, the former soldier alighted on the crinkled edge of a paralyzed tide, mapping out a route to the cluster of crevices that led to the column's core. The hollow nostalgia of distant, roaming Wyverns did not hold so much as a wick to the chance, the slightest glimmer of hope before her, that she would hear her voice, strong and clear.

The search for answers was wavering as her guiding motivation, evolving into a smouldering determination that hearkened back to the strides preceding the prevention of widespread massacre and bent fate to her design.

Her will unrestrained, Lightning pressed on. Unless perceived otherwise, the lifeblood of the malicious influence that dared to compromise the martyred heart of the structure would bathe the blade of the saber.

* * *

Hope retied the kerchief around his left wrist as the cure spell faded from his right leg, leaving no trace of the gash in its wake. His thanks to Vanille was delayed as he scrambled to keep up with her pace, unsure whether to be glad or wary of the pent-up energy from her stasis. The catacombs had branched out into a passage pocked with frozen air capsules, the walls on each side shaped into protrusions resembling a misaligned ribcage. Through here, they sought to leave the recurring, rattling shivers that afflicted the pillar at their heels.

Nearly stumbling into the amiable Oerban, Hope tried to ignore the unsettling development. "Do you think we're any closer?" he asked her, disliking the downward slope of the floor.

"Well..." Vanille wondered aloud, meandering in a semi-circle before she crouched down near the uneven wall to her left, pressing both palms and the side of her head upon it.

The silver-haired teen frowned at the sudden sense of a change in temperature radiating from the tunnel, as though a warm breeze or the heat released from a hearth had overcome imprisonment within the structure. However, the subsequent exchange prompted him to recall Alexander's rumbling greeting earlier in the day.

Vanille gave a flustered sigh, "Yes, yes, I know we didn't start on the right foot, but Brynhildr, I'll never bother you ever again if you give us one tiny little indication of how far Light and Serah are from us...?"

After a handful of seconds flew by and the essence of the Eidolon's attention subsided, Vanille returned to her feet, "Away we go!" she smiled, gesturing to a cavern that curved into a system of burrows, all flanked by crystal panes gazing at the horizon. Somewhat comforted that his friend retained the traits that did not cease to amaze him, Hope ran alongside her, soon broaching the foremost thought on his mind.

"So," he said, "What did it take to come out of... you know."

"The Steppe fal'Cie had a part in it," she told him, "He went on about how I had to 'reclaim my place in the balance of life'. I only started to really listen when he said I should 'heed the tidings of my comrade'." Scuffing her heels over the banks of crystal dust, she went on, "But I've been doing that for months, now."

The tint of colour drained from Hope's face as the Cie'th wail pierced the tunnel. It was not the shriek itself that incited the pair to track it - rather, its transition from a vicious to frightened sent them jogging down the Eidolon's advised path.

Deprived of their earlier hunt, the penanggalan had taken to the prospect of new quarry with reckless vigour. The cost of their desire for prey was strewn about the wide tunnel in two different states. Those farthest from their target had met an icy demise, whereas those who had flown closer currently lay crushed beneath the very stalactites their razor wings had dislodged.

Realizing the identity of their intended prey, Vanille's expression lapsed into short-lived shock before she seized the hilt of her weapon, pinning the aerial Cie'th with a dire glare.

"I've had it with these rotten old ghastlies!" she declared, brandishing the binding rod. She flung the wires at the poison-spewing penanggalan that lurched towards Serah, fastening the four hooks into the fiend's granite fringe and sent it bowling into the formation of its accomplices.

Bringing in the wires, she sped up the Alicanto and Hawkeye's flight with an aero spell, giving the boomerangs enough force to concuss two of the fiends and throw the remaining trio on a collision course with a grounded stalactite, under which half a dozen of their crystallized accomplices lay.

Catching the returning boomerangs, Hope approached Serah as she picked her way around the hillocks of corpses. Holstering the binding rod, Vanille felt the urge to wilt under a lingering sense of shame and stood apart from the two.

"How did you even manage to get the drop on them?" the younger Farron asked Hope, concern assailing her gratitude as her eyes fell upon Hope's ally.

"We sneaked, but that's not what I..." Vanille began, wringing her wrists, "You see, I've been meaning to tell you - properly, this time-"

She flinched when Serah took hold of her hands, willing herself to look up to the compassionate face of the once-stranger who had lent an ear to her worries.

"What matters is that you're safe," the younger Farron said. "You've already apologized, and if it weren't for you and Fang, we would never have the family that we do now." With a gentle smile, she added, "Besides, if you're ever feeling scared, or trying to run from something, you can count on us to be there for you."

At the sign of Vanille attempting to gulp back tears, the silver-haired teen placed a hand on her shoulder. "I might as well be trying to flood the Steppe." The amiable Oerban sniffled, earning a bemused look from Hope.

"Yeah," he explained, scratching the back of his neck, "About that. Titan beat you to it."

Vanille's wide-eyed astonishment gave way to peals of laughter, which soon befell Hope and Serah, as well. "He would do just that, wouldn't he?" she giggled, "I never saw him as one for-"

A thunderous shudder struck the pillar and almost brought the adolescents to their knees. Fractures crawled across the ceiling as the adolescents hurried to the wall of the tunnel, staying as close to it as possible.

"Where's Light in all of this?" the amiable Oerban inquired, her heart racing even as the worst of the quake ran its course.

"She went ahead," Serah informed them, "The tremors weren't as bad, where we were."

Hope spoke, considering the positive angle, "She must've met up with Fang by now."

At this, Vanille clapped her hands together, "Ha! That's... Oh," as her initial joy was withered by realization, "Not good."

The younger Farron paled, though Hope refused to accept the ill-boding words as they were, "What do you mean, by that?" he questioned, his voice laden with dread.

Vanille's response was dissonant with the cloudless sky, peering through the wall behind them.

"When Fang and I were in the chamber, the ground wasn't all that far below us. Problem is, it was so thin... I had to crawl my way out of there, but with this going on, I'm not sure if it'll be strong enough to be there for Fang."

With the arrival of another tremor, the cracks in the ceiling multiplied, spreading closer to the trio. Taking a breath, Serah turned to her allies, "We'll have to get to them from the outside," she proposed, "There were a couple fissures along the way I came - we've got what we need to stay on our feet, and tangle with those awful creatures, when it comes to that."

Beaming expressions confirmed Vanille and Hope's agreement, in which Serah revived her previous sprint and led the two along the winding tunnel.

As if spurred on by the rush of air that seeped in through the fractures, Vanille laughed, "I guess it doesn't have to happen just once in your life."

"What's that?" Hope asked, puzzled.

"Saving them!" she clarified, her mirth extinguished once more as, four feet behind them, the ceiling collapsed.

Covering their eyes from the gritty shower of dust, the trio backed away from the pile of frosted shards as spasms wracked the form of the forsaken soul, pierced by countless slivers. In the haze of dust, Hope and Serah assumed the bulky appearance to be that of a nelapsi. However, Vanille's vice-like grip on their wrists and insistence to run even faster was all that preceded the tell-tale screech of the seeker Cie'th.

"Normally, we'd love to make acquaintances," the amiable Oerban yelled over her shoulder, "But in this case... Ciao!"


	29. Chapter 29

29

The velocycle sped through the skies of Gran Pulse, as if it were aiming to defy the logistics of acceleration. With the landscape below passing by in a blur, Sazh's qualms got the better of him as he glanced to the driver's seat.

"'Kicked it up a notch'?" he said.

"Really, it's nothing to worry about," the burly man assured him, "A few minor adjustments, some piston check-ups, maybe a pinch of magic..."

At the foot of the backseat, Bhakti issued an admonishing twitter, though Sazh waved away any further disapproval. "As long as this thing stays in the air," he sighed, shoving remnant misgivings aside while reviewing the hand-held screen that tracked their pursuit of the rampaging fal'Cie. As of the last few miles, the pilot suspected where the entity was heading, but the erratic nature of Asura's previous paths of destruction muddled the certainty of his deductions.

"You think the Menhirrim are closing in on it?" he asked Snow. Within seconds of Asura's retreat, the leonine statues had extended their influence to the floodwaters, commanding the deluge to flush the fal'Cie out of her latest burrow and into open ground.

"Let's hope so," Snow replied, bristling as one of many nelapsi they had encountered so far swooped down towards the vehicle, "We just need to stay one step ahead of this thing-"

Suffering the wrath of the Total Eclipses, the nelapsi spiralled to its doom before it could leave a mark on the hood of the vehicle. "You were saying?" Sazh said, on the lookout for any more interruptions. The burly man simply offered a grim laugh and looked towards their encroaching destination.

Knowing that Lebreau, Gadot, Maqui, Yuj and the strike force under their jurisdiction were well on their way to rejoining Bartholomew and his wards at the Massif encampment alleviated his concern for them. By that extent, it was no stretch of imagination for Sazh to sense that the security of the team's welfare fortified Snow's will to go beyond the power and fate in his grasp, and bring the entirety of his family together, once and for all.

* * *

Crystal slivers skittered along the steep angle of the tunnel, hounding the rumbling quake's steady progression from the lower reaches of the pillar. Jumping up to another precarious ledge, Lightning scoffed at the echoing cowardice of the Cie'th. The forsaken souls would be stampeding, crushing and tripping over formerly cohesive hunting parties and taking pains to mob any of the smaller variations that tried to dart to safety. Stripped of the stability necessary to maintain composure, the fiends would bow to infectious panic and lash out against their mindless torment, even if it should bring them to desecrate the structure that had sheltered them.

The unending cacophony was not the root of the annoyance scraping along the back of her mind, but it made no effort to abate it as she continued to negotiate the alternating tracts of glassy and coarse walkways. Rather, her irritation stemmed from the prevalence of pale, shifting rays dripping across the cavern's surfaces. Memories of the Narthex tried to impede her concentration on the tremor's movement along the column; judging the dispersing force would assist her in determining how far she was from the hollows that led into the chamber. Lightning exhaled prior to persisting, as though to wash away the recollection of the stale atmosphere.

Having come this far, she would not allow something as trivial as reflective light deter her. Illuminated tricks would not obscure the shadows of the tunnels for long. Just as certain, if the need arose, she would carve her own path to the chamber. By no particular prompt, she pondered the Oerban's responses to the nuisance with a wry tone. Doubtlessly, Vanille would outshine her surroundings, while Fang would forage onward, ever stubborn-

She nearly paused at the thought, a smirk tugging at her lips as the sentiment behind the distraction burned brighter, goading her to turn back.

"Nice try," she said, threads of long-ago banter revisiting her mind, "But this is one talk you're not going to miss out on."

* * *

The diverse cloud of penanggalan and nelapsi streamed out from the fissure, flailing teeth and limbs in the struggle to put as many miles between themselves and the pillar as possible. Unseen by the flock, the trio of adolescents continued to clamber up the serrated tiers leading up to the starburst shell of the chamber.

"Almost there!" Vanille shouted from her perch atop a horizontally jutting spike. Having been the first to be reeled up to the tier, courteously of the binding rod wires, Serah peered down and observed Hope's progress.

"Looks like all of Light's hard work is paying off," the amiable Oerban commented casually.

Serah cast her an amused look, "You don't say?"

"He used to tire out far too quickly," Vanille explained, leaning over with a conspiratorial whisper before pulling Hope up the rest of the way, "Still all skin and bones, though."

Brushing crystal dust from his knees, the silver-haired teen scanned the shell for any signs of an entryway. "What's our best bet?" he asked Vanille.

His friend tapped her chin, sauntering closer to the foundation of the spine. "Coming from above won't work, but we could try going around that side... Am I the only one hearing all this racket?" Sourly, she put her hands on her hips, so lost in thought that she did not notice Hope and Serah whip around to take in an incoming, roaring silhouette.

A call sounded out to her, causing the amiable Oerban to pivot on her heels and gasp, seeing a dream unfold into reality.

"Sazh! Over here!" she cried, waving her arms while the velocycle's occupants searched for a place to idle long enough to bring them aboard.

"Great to see you, too!" Snow yelled, the humour of his feigned offense overshadowed by the pilot's warning. Veering the vehicle away from the seeker Cie'th's gnashing jaws, the burly man endeavoured to catch a draft of air and stabilize the velocycle.

The trio glowered at the forsaken soul, "So much for staying in one place," Serah lamented. At this, inspiration took to Hope's mind as he weighed the Hawkeye in his hand, formulating a plan.

"Can you give me a hand with this one?" he asked the younger Farron, harvesting the slight, though potent aura of renewed magic. As soon as he received her affirmation, Hope cast the glimmering spell over the boomerang and hurled it towards the Cie'th; acquiring a glint of silver from Serah, the weapon smashed into the fiend's gut.

With the combined spells dazing the seeker and suspending it in mid-flight, Vanille hooked the wires of the binding rod onto the fiend. "Time to fly!" she announced, waiting for her friends to anchor one hand to the hilt of the weapon and loop their free arms around her waist before they took a running leap off the tier.

Vanille cheered, for she had almost forgotten how exhilarating it was to dive from towering heights. Hope and Serah screamed, for the drop was sheer.

Speeding towards them, Snow arranged the vehicle so that its open side was facing the trio as they swung towards them. Effortlessly, he caught his fiancée with one arm; behind them, Sazh nearly toppled out of his seat as Vanille and Hope slammed into him.

"Nothing to it," Snow chuckled, summoning a weary laugh from Serah as he pulled the velocycle away from the pillar's base, allowing the backseat trio to sort themselves out of their present state of discomfort. Once she and the silver-haired teen were buckled in, the amiable Oerban succeeded in giving Sazh a fierce hug.

"Still keeping it together?" she teased, resting her head on his shoulder. With an arm around her torso, the pilot brushed away the initial traces of overwhelmed joy from his eyes, "Wouldn't want to disappoint," he replied, gesturing to a happily whistling individual at their feet.

"Bhakti!" Vanille beamed, setting the robot on her lap while he purred in contentment at the return of his mistress. "Aren't you looking wonderful," the amiable Oerban said, admiring his array of upgrades before turning to Sazh, "I guess you've made a habit out of fixing him?"

"All I did was bring him home," Sazh told her, "Hope's the one who spruced him up."

The silver-haired teen's strangled cough in the wake of the subsequent embrace was short-lived as Serah and Snow returned their focus to the column.

"Light went after Fang," the younger Farron informed her fiancé, "Vanille said there could be a way in, around the other side."

In tandem to their exchange, Sazh noticed several irregularities that had sprung up on the hand-held screen. The amount of interference consumed the tracking signals, yet first and foremost on the pilot's mind was the safety of his unaccounted-for family members.

Sazh looked to Snow, "You sure it can support all this?" he inquired, considering the strength of the tiers in proportion to the mass of the vehicle.

Snow gestured to the binding rod, "We could try swinging by-"

"Look out!"

Hope's exclamation gave them enough warning to haul back as a bolt of searing energy shot up from the ground, its resulting shockwave colliding with the pillar. The lightest plink of crumbling Cie'th corpses responded while the rest of the column stood, unaffected and defiant.

Boulders and uprooted foliage had been tossed asunder by the strike, ringing the frothing rush of a chaotic, grimy geyser. Manipulating the flood, Asura circled the foot of the structure, the blazing energy coursing through her form evaporating the residual water from her scales. With gaping jaws, she tasted the currents of air carrying the exhaust fumes of the velocycle's engine and rotated her head, as if to bend with the gales. Instantaneously her head snapped down, the tip of her corroded, mesh beak resting on the underside of her neck.

The mockery of surrender dissolved when the crystal scabs covering the stumps of the fal'Cie's fin joints twitched violently, emitting coils of smoke while the scales nearest to them fanned out erratically. Twin torrents of energy shot out from Asura's flanks, scarring the land with a pair of scorched gorges as the nature of the fins was revealed.

Molten scales hardened over the necks of the two lesser facets as they slunk out from either side of the fal'Cie, shrilly agonizing over the amputation of the crests upon their scalps. Dragging the end of her barbed tail back and forth across the pool gushing at the foot of the column, Asura raised her head towards the glow of the structure's core, the duplicate heads copying her movement with marionette grace.

The howls of the lesser facets mimicked a symphony of tortured ghouls as Asura coiled around the pillar and commenced her ascent.


	30. Chapter 30

30

Oerba Yun Fang hovered above a twenty foot drop, sleek and pearlescent in her repose. Crystal splinters varying in size from the width of a hand to the length of a mangled oak limb carpeted the floor of the chamber. The initial onset of uncertain boding for her friend's welfare was put to ease, for the litter of penanggalan corpses in a neighbouring tunnel confirmed the restoration of the amiable Oerban.

In spite of the shockwave that had impacted the pillar, the better part of the chamber remained intact, serving as a testament to Fang's determination and willingness to hold the burden of Cocoon aloft. The atmosphere of the chamber gave the impression that it existed apart from the world it was rooted to. Glacial sheets enclosed the sanctuary in rippling walls, curving up to a webbed chandelier of chiming stalactites which hung oblivious to tremors shaking the pillar's foundations. At the heart of everything, Fang glowed vibrant enough to bring onlookers to their knees and bow in reverence of the serene martyr.

Standing on one of the few, stable ledges that had endured the collapse of the ground, Lightning saw past the ruse of her comrade's appearance. When the distinction of dreams and memories inched closer to irreparable fraying, the former soldier had relied on the unfailing truth of the instances where Fang was at peace. Whether she was kicking off her sandals and wading into the ponds of Namva or reclining in the Massif meadows and baring her neck to the dying sun, her absolute tranquility was something to marvel at. To look away would be an insult on par with disrupting her resettlement into her first and only home.

Even in stasis, the nuances of the headstrong Oerban's discontent were evident. Her posture bore the sense that she intended to hit the ground running at a moment's notice while her left arm was poised as if to take hold of the pointed crystal orbiting around her, encasing the burning soul of Bahamut. Second only to the light from her heart was the shine emitting from Fang's right hand, rendered incomplete by the spaces between her fingers.

In the face of all that had come to be, Lightning had come to accept many things. She accepted that danger would still seek her family, no matter the lengths she took to prevent it. She accepted solitude, if only to combat any power that sought to shred the bonds of parent and child; the union of lovers.

Resting her palm on the hilt of the blazefire saber, the former soldier stood unflinching as twin wails defiled the swan song of fragmented crystals. She would strike down these minions and challenge the fal'Cie, unaided and unrelenting until the entity accepted, in its death throes, that Lightning believed in a future where the headstrong Oerban would receive the ultimate, fitting reward for her sacrifices.

Bracing herself against the unceasing quakes, Lightning spoke.

"Feels like only yesterday, you didn't give a damn about Cocoon," she began, focusing on the frozen shadow of a smirk, "I don't know if you've heard us, since then. Maybe you've moved on from that, and this might be a waste. But if you're still there, then hear me out."

She went on, her tone resolute. "Sazh wasn't motivated to attack that fal'Cie because of eternal life or endless torment. Hope isn't here to try and slow down a brand. Snow and Serah aren't being forced to fight against a Focus. Coming one step closer to where it ended - to bringing you and Vanille home - was their choice."

"It's over, Fang," Lightning said, her assertion carrying over the intensifying tremors, "Cocoon will never take anything more from your home. You've got family fighting for you, waiting for you. From now on, we'll take the hits for you, and if you even think about going it alone..."

The memory of her comrade convulsing as the fal'Cie's shackles ignited her nervous system resurfaced. Rising above the instinct to falter under the searing guilt, of her vulnerability to the final fabrication of reality, Lightning curled a fist over her heart and vowed, "I won't fail you again."

Metal plates screeched against the column's outer walls, prompting the layers of crystal to creak in strained reaction to the Eidolon's efforts to subdue fractures. Freeing the saber from its sheath, Lightning took a defensive stance as the pitch of the dual howls increased.

"Fang, open your eyes!" she yelled, refusing to succumb to desperation, even as the entity continued its intrusion and sent shivers through the chandelier of stalactites. "So much has changed, but I'm not going to spell it out for you, so don't get any ideas. It's time for you to move on, and see it for yourself, because you've got one hell of a life ahead of you."

Behind either side of the chamber, two clusters of pale lights gazed through the translucent walls, leeching the azure hue from the crystal structure. With a fair assumption regarding the attack that would succeed the keening wail of concentrated energy, Lightning anchored the saber to the ledge and fell to a crouch.

A tremendous roar shuddered through the chamber as the will of Alexander deflected the searing beams back at the fiends. Despite the Eidolon's counterattack, the impact of two opposing forces still shook the chamber to its foundations. Gritting her rattled teeth, Lightning pulled the saber out from the ridge and sliced through a falling stalagmite. Backing away from the cracks creeping along the edge of the chipped platform, the former soldier's eyes darted to the chandelier. The larger, mangled stalactites crashed into the weaker ledges in a cloud of dust; at the middle of the stalactite forest, palm-sized shards glanced off Fang's shining form. A succession of fractures indicated that the greater spikes hanging above the headstrong Oerban would not last another series of the blinding strikes.

As a rumbling bellow drowned out the shrieks of the fiends under its command, Lightning tensed, yet her thoughts remained with the danger bearing down on Fang. Months of lingering remorse and things unsaid, of frustration at postponed recovery amounted to the seconds before her, and the rage of the fal'Cie surrounding them. In this fleeting space of time, the former soldier recalled an oath of preventing any Maker-born entity from bringing Fang to the brink of death a second time; acknowledging all that was forfeit, Lightning held fast to her prevailing will to protect Fang, no matter the cost.

She leapt from the ledge.


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N:** Some may want to see more of a romance angle, some may want to see less of one. But the fact of the matter is, I'm damn well satisfied with how this chapter came out. xD

* * *

31

Cool air hit her lungs.

The world trembled as she lay on her side, biting back bile in the upheaval of the stark change that had engulfed her surroundings. Pale light burned the shadows of fatigue from the edge of her vision, forcing her to shut her eyes against the distortion while numbness encumbered her limbs. A clash of sound waged war around her, each noise vying to be the first to surpass her muffled hearing as she recovered her senses and recalled the words that had similarly awoken Vanille.

'_Worthy soul, take up your thrall and forgo exile. Slumber is a paltry hindrance to your prowess, to the devotion you hold for this world. Reclaim your place in the balance of life and stay the deeds of my corrupt kin, whose actions shall brook untold annihilation to fulfil her warped task. Heed the tidings of your comrade and put an end to this treachery.'_

Swaying in the attempt to stand, Fang rested heavily on her forearms and knees as the echo of Titan's call faded, swift as it had come. Perhaps any other would content themselves with considering the Steppe fal'Cie to be the sole benefactor of their restoration, and begin to piece their lives back together while taking preceding influences for granted. Any other would not have heard the summons preceding Titan's intervention, as Fang did; the unquestionable truth that her comrade would not settle with remembrance. Lightning had retrieved far more than her will to fight, striving beyond limitation in her refusal to let the centuries claim the headstrong Oerban and all she had to live for.

Fang's muscles screamed in protest as she hauled herself up, craning her head towards the middle of the chamber. Grounded stalactites were embedded in the glassy floor, flanked by a forest of crystal shards. Turning away from the scarcely avoided fate of impalement, Fang took in her immediate location with an intensifying sense of incompletion. A portion of a chipped overhang shielded her from the hail of dust and opalescent splinters, while the partial crescent of Bahamut's crystal pulsed within her arm's reach.

The call for her comrade died in the headstrong Oerban's throat as she focused on the splash of blood, trickling out towards the ongoing conflict of sound and light.

Adrenaline rushed through her veins as she beheld the scene of combat, unblinking, and fastened her fingers around the base of the bladed lance.

* * *

The grav-con unit had taken the brunt of their landing, but its design restricted it from clearing away the crystal fragments which had subsequently gored Lightning's side. Her haste to bring Fang as far as possible from the compromised ceiling amounted to further aggravation of the splinters digging into her side when Asura's right facet broke through a weakened niche in the exterior shell.

Upholding her diversion of the fiend's wrath, the former soldier greeted the facet with a gout of fire before ducking under the nearest overhang. While her foe writhed in pain, she yanked the largest of the persistent shards out of her torso with an acidic hiss, having just enough time to coagulate the wound with a cure spell before transitioning to an offensive paradigm as the facet rammed its muzzle into the overhang.

Whenever the lesser opponent reeled back, Lightning seized the opportunity to transition between deterring and curative magic. For every discarded splinter and mended gash, the facet put more strength into caving the minimal shelter offered by the overhang. Shrugging off the fatigue gnawing at the back of her mind, Lightning clipped the top of the right facet's gaping jaw with a ruin orb and conjured a wave of thundara as the foe recoiled. Even if backup arrived or restoration took effect, she would continue to hold off the facet until its master scrounged up the courage to provide a real challenge.

Twisting its neck, the facet flared the topmost scales ringing its neck as the thundara spell took flight, countering the sparking current with an arc of energy. Biting back the pain that flared up from the stubborn splinters, Lightning repelled the resulting shockwave with the flat of the saber. The fiend lowered its head, its blind eyes level with the former soldier's flinty glare while estimating how long it would take to clear the space of ten feet and snap up the tenacious mortal.

The shadow centered on the facet's scalp, leaving it without a second's mercy before fate descended upon it with the intensity of a midnight reaper.

"You're gonna _squirm_!"

Flickering with the aura of a deprotect spell, the bladed lance skewered through to the underside of the facet's mauled jaw. In the futile struggle to endure, the fiend jerked its head from side to side, merely encouraging the headstrong Oerban to cast the haze of froststrike and proceed to twist the blades deeper into its skull. Wrenching the lance from the fiend's head, Fang jumped to the ground and watched the pressure of the attack take hold of the unmoving facet and split its head into countless fragments.

As the extension of energy withdrew itself from the uncapped neck before it crashed into the fallen stalactites, Lightning pulled the remaining shards out of her side and knelt down, breathing a revitalized sigh as the cure magic completed its delayed task. Collecting her bearings, the former soldier looked up to see a hand held out towards her.

The saber hung at her side as she leant against her comrade, momentarily closing her eyes in the respite she found while resting her chin on her shoulder. At no disposition to dissuade this, Fang clasped the former soldier's hand close to her heart, maintaining this proximity until her heart rate eased with the knowledge that Lightning continued to breathe.

Mindful of the lance in her grasp, the headstrong Oerban draped her arm around Lightning's shoulders, interrupting her intention to speak by setting the tips of her fingers beneath the former soldier's chin and closing her mouth with a soft click.

"Before we pick it up, I'll be having my say of things, alright?" Fang said, her tone unwilling to accommodate any contrary opinion, "Far as I know, you've never failed me, there's nothing any of you can't ask of Vanille and I, 'pathetic' is the farthest thought from my mind when it comes to what the lot of you did to get here, and I dare you to try putting your neck on the line like that again."

Recognizing the inkling of guarded distress, Lightning recalled the hours beneath a false sunset, skulking from one promenade to the next. Thus did she incline her head away from Fang's chiding touch, raising a wry brow, "That it?"she asked. Fang scoffed, unable to ward off an amused shake of her head as she half-heartedly scuffed her knuckles across Lightning's chin.

"Nice of you to keep in touch," Fang replied, propping her free hand on her hip, "About time you let our boy strike it out on his own, too."

Lightning shrugged, "It's like I said," she explained, placing her palm above the headstrong Oerban's right elbow, "There's a lot to catch up on."

Savouring the absence of a scorched scar stretching over her bicep, Fang chuckled, "Should've seen that comin'."

Robbed of its twin, the left facet gave a foul screech and barrelled into the opposite side of the chamber's exterior, growling as the Eidolon's essence dispersed the ensuing beam of energy with a strength that mimicked the fortification of Ullr's Shield.

"Let's take this outside," Lightning suggested, hefting the saber blade onto her shoulder.

In response, Fang threw a smirk in the direction of the vengeful facet, "Yeah," she said, "That's one audience we could do without."

* * *

Asura clamped her jaws shut, acquiring a mouthful of crystal engine exhaust as the velocycle veered out of the way. The continuous hail of magic and bullets had earned the bulk of her ire, leaving her to charge the facets with supervising the entrapment of the pillar's power source while she dealt with the distraction. As if amused by the fal'Cie's hatred, a certain half of the Eidolon force had put their efforts into heating up the temperature of the crystal plates Asura had dug her scales into, attaining blistering degrees that melted the edges of the metal plates into the very structure she sought to topple. Like a snap of electricity, the searing temperature then bowed to a shock of ice, which branched out onto the fal'Cie in the attempt to freeze her to the column and hinder her flexibility.

"How long do you think that'll hold up?" Sazh asked, observing the veins of ice snap as quickly as they formed.

At this, Snow pushed aside his curiosity over the right facet's recent inactivity. "Long enough for us to get them out of there," he replied. The occupants of the velocycle had endured several bouts of unspoken apprehension with every flash of light that occurred within the chamber. Though he retained confidence all the while, Snow could not deny the inevitable consequence that hung over him and the passengers.

The initial fight with Asura and the trials of scaling the pillar had cost a sufficient amount of magic, to the extent in which all, if any spells following those sent to battle the fal'Cie, would be a shadow of their former quality. Even if they were to pool together what was left of their magic, the burly man wondered if it would eliminate the left facet, much less shear away the scales covering the core of Asura's energy. However, further contemplation was disrupted as a request sounded near the side of his head.

"Go more towards the left, _please_." Vanille told him, wielding a tone that implied there would be a number of significantly harmful events in his near future if her demands were not met. None too keen on receiving a thrashing similar to those that had befallen countless Pulsian fiends, Snow drove the vehicle as ordered while another strike from the Alicanto made sure the fal'Cie would not lose interest in them anytime soon.

Swerving the vehicle, as so Hope could catch the returning boomerang without having to clamber over Sazh and Vanille, Snow narrowed his eyes upon seeing a pair of shadows climb over the unmoving neck of the right facet. On closer inspection, he gave a laugh of disbelief.

"Nothing to it!" he grinned, alerting the passengers to the individuals leaping from one ridge of the starburst shell to the next, their weapons glinting in the rays of the setting sun as they soldiered on towards the left facet.

Words of encouragement and heightened attacks carried out from the velocycle. Noticing something was out of place, Snow looked over his shoulder and caught the calm, pensive expression on Vanille's face as she glanced to the tawny pouch at her side. Withdrawing its contents, the occupants of the vehicle turned towards her as embers of light were scattered over the interior of the velocycle.

"So _that's_ what you've been waiting on." Hope said, indicating that the amiable Oerban had been previously eyeing the pouch.

"Not a moment too soon." Vanille commented, cupping the vermillion crystal in both palms.

Her wistful lilt prompted Snow to share an empathetic look with his fiancée. The Eidolons were among the first things he had related to Serah, doing his best to describe the test of willpower that eventually led to an irreplaceable partnership. That the soul of Vanille's Eidolon did not rest beneath her brand was a reality that served to prove her suffering as a l'Cie was of the past. By that extent, however, it brought up the question of how long the Eidolon would continue exist among them.

"You ready for this?" Sazh inquired, his concern veiling the helplessness he felt from being unable to abate the pain in the amiable Oerban's smile. No one could predict what would become of the guardian spirit, but Snow knew, from the glow in its master's eyes, that the Eidolon's final flight would not be in vain.

"Rise and shine," Vanille said, reeling her arm back and tossing the fiery crystal on a direct course for Asura's head.

With a single, sure shot from Sazh, the crystal exploded into shards and unleashed a halo of ignited sigils. From the core of the burning ring plummeted an aura of static energy, which was cast aside in a shower of embers as Hecatoncheir materialized and collided with the fal'Cie.

* * *

As she and Lightning rounded the side of the tiered shell, Fang gave a whoop of sadistic delight upon witnessing the multiple-armed Eidolon stabbed footholds into the fal'Cie's scales, pummelling down Asura's attempts to flare out her scales and bisect him with a ring of energy. Jumping a few tiers ahead of Lightning, the headstrong Oerban looked on with approval as Hecatoncheir tore a handful of scales from their hinges with a hurricane kick.

A purple glow attempted to shine through the fold of her sari, inciting her to chuckle, "Let him have a bit of fun," she said, affectionately reprimanding her indignant Eidolon.

Bahamut's crystal nearly punctured her side as the left facet barrelled through the ledge she was standing on, having slithered under the curve of the shell and out of sight. Twisting in mid-air, Fang plunged the lance into the underside of the nearest ledge, preventing both a concussion and the acquirement of higher ground. With a fistful of blizzara and fractures spreading out from the entrenched lance, Fang glowered at the leering facet.

Two thunder-enhanced slashes of the saber threw the fiend's head back while an uppercut kick brought its maw crashing shut. The following flurry of bullets and sweeping strikes gave the facet no chance to fight back; its endeavour to vocalize its agony never came to be as Lightning concluded her unrelenting attack with a back flip and three ruin orbs that hurtled through an opening where scales had once covered the facet's larynx.

Fang yanked the lance out from the ledge and somersaulted into a graceful landing beside the former soldier. Side by side, they watched the smoking, mangled excuse for a head go tumbling down into the lake at the foot of the structure.

"As if there was any doubt," Fang said, sending her comrade a sidelong grin. The beginnings of a reciprocating smirk faded from Lightning's lips when a cry came from the velocycle, signifying that Hecatoncheir had very narrowly avoided a retaliating amputation.

A fleeting glance passed between the headstrong Oerban and her ally before they dove off of the ledge. Fang threw the incisor-shaped crystal at the dying sun while Lightning gave a direct shot; the fragments dissolving into a whorl of overcast clouds as the blazing emblem of the dragon king split across the sky.


	32. Chapter 32

32

Crashing through the series of sigils as though they were sheets of volcanic glass, Bahamut's flight path remained unaffected as his master and the former soldier landed on his shoulder blades. En route to the velocycle, he drew back a clawed hand and flicked an ignis bolt at Asura, soaring towards the vehicle while the orb of fire impacted the fal'Cie's spinal column. As Hecatoncheir continued to weave and dodge away from the entity's snapping maw, denting and severing scales with each step, the dragon king swooped over the velocycle and rolled on an angle that allowed his master and her ally to leap from his back and, with the latter's manipulation of gravity, land crouched upon the roof of the vehicle without injury or incident.

Baying for the blood of the fiend that had sought to slay his master, Bahamut stretched his arms out and concentrated a sphere of white hot energy in either palm before diving head-on towards Asura and slamming the umbral vase against either side of her sightless eyes. The fal'Cie swung her head about in wild spasms as her retaliatory shockwave backfired and charred her interior shell, due to Hecatoncheir pummelling the middle rings of scales around her neck to the point in which they were caught under the neighbouring plates of rust-covered metal.

Watchful of the embers skittering past the breaks in the fal'Cie's armor, the multiple-armed Eidolon dug the tips of his feet into two of the scales he had torn from Asura's flank and proceeded to board down her coiled body. Sending up a trail of sparks in his wake, he threw a collection of the pilfered scales in a ring around the top of the pillar; flying parallel to his path, Bahamut unleashed a whirlwind strike to ensure the scales orbited the chamber's shell at escalating speed, trapping Asura within a barrier of her own matter.

Fumes seeped from her mesh nostrils and the growing amount of molten veins etched over her remaining scales as Asura issued a raw howl and spat a comet at the spinning shield. The scales erupted in a wheel of fire while the fal'Cie drew the extensions of her power back to her overheating crystal core, increasing the rate in which the scales surrounding it fused to the lowermost spikes beneath the chamber shell.

While the fal'Cie constructed her retribution, Bahamut fell short of grazing his wings against the base of the column as he reached out to Hecatoncheir. Wrenching the scales from his feet and embedding them in the fal'Cie's side, the multiple-armed Eidolon wound the cables of his retractable hands around the proffered hand.

As Asura fell for their bait, the two Eidolons spiralled on a course for the radius of static energy, their flight pattern synchronized to permit them to dispel the bolts Asura sent their way with an onslaught of ignis and force projections. With seismic strength, Bahamut threw Hecatoncheir on an arc that enabled him to soar outside of the barrier.

Launching the cables once more, the multiple-armed Eidolon latched on to the crystal spires protruding out from where the pillar met with Cocoon; at the other side of frozen waves leaping out from the underside of the shell, the dragon king plunged his claws into the column. Without the intent to break away from the world, Bahamut and Hecatoncheir merged the cold aura of their crystal energy and cast their influence to the water pooling at the foot of the pillar.

With tidal might, the runoff of the Steppe downpour was pulled towards the barrier, the currents lashing out to encircle the entirety of the crystal structure. The multiple-armed Eidolon and the dragon king tilted their heads and gazed at the opalescent world above. Simultaneously they perceived the essence of their fellow souls; the vitality of Stiria and Nix, Alexander's unfailing loyalty, the perseverance of Brynhildr and the wisdom of Odin.

Combining their last, corporeal roar of defiance in the name of their masters, Hecatoncheir and Bahamut brought the coiling water crashing into all sides of the pillar and accepted their place among the ranks of their kin.

In the seconds preceding the searing light and quaking bellow that enveloped the world around them, Snow and Serah held one another close. Behind them, Sazh tensed, prepared to shield Vanille and Hope as they clung to each other's hands, refusing to let fate separate them a second time. Atop the roof of the velocycle, Lightning and Fang observed the outcome of the fate they had crafted.

Halfway to sinking below the horizon, the sun illuminated the fresh, shining expanse of crystal. Petrified waves and interwoven quartz sheets branched out from a clear, glossy coil of scales wound around the pillar. Flanking the top of the reinforced column, two translucent knights held the world above their shoulders; one with a multitude of arms, and the other with its wings flared around the curve of the shell.

From the core of the chamber leapt the frozen, gaping head of a fearsome entity. The creature would never wage terror against lives or land, for the heart of Asura's power was encased in the chamber she had sought to destroy, and would burn eternal to support Cocoon.

* * *

Night reigned over the Massif encampment, bringing the temperature of the mountain range down to a pleasant chill. Innumerable stars watched over the diverse landscape, which remained unaffected as they continued to smoulder through their place in existence.

While Hina was a creature of notable intelligence, she was nonetheless unconcerned with contemplating the universe and the grand creations therein. Rather, the pudgy fledgling found Dajh's current state of discontent to be far more important. Some hours before a blinding light had engulfed the crystallized Cocoon for a heartbeat or two, Uncle Snow's brood had regrouped with her, Dajh, and Hope's father.

Despite being streaked with dust and nearly soaked to their waists by grimy water, the quartet remained upbeat and boasted of their strikes against the underground monster. Even when Dajh asked why Daddy and Uncle Snow didn't come back with them, their confidence held strong as they told him that all of their family would be home before morning. With midnight fast approaching and the rest of their flock nowhere to be seen, Hina had half a mind to peck the nearest forehead and demand an explanation. Ultimately, she refrained from the action, for it would only remind her of the rest she was in need of.

Perched upon Dajh's head, the Chocobo chick had gone along with his insistence to stay near the pass where Uncle Snow's brood had parked their vehicles. The child reasoned that, from here, they would be able to see their family coming from a mile away. However, the evening continued to drag on, and frequent were the instances in which Dajh yawned and bobbed his head, no matter how stubbornly he tried to keep awake. As far as Hina was concerned, it only made sense for her to be twice as vigilant for every minute that brought the child closer to sleep.

Preening an unruly patch of down under her wing, the pudgy fledgling resumed her vigil over Dajh. During the relocation to the Massif encampment, she wondered if the sense of unfinished business that had hounded these last few months would have been dealt with earlier, had she accompanied Daddy and their flock to wherever they currently were. Though circumstances caused her initial acquaintance with Dajh to be brief and repeatedly interrupted, Hina had grown to understand that it was her duty to look out for the child, as she had looked out for Daddy during the time in which they endured hazards and high altitude in order to make sure Dajh would live happy and safe.

A mechanical hum broke through her pondering, prompting the Chocobo chick to center her beady eyes on a wisp of engine exhaust winding around the decomposing roots of the impressive, felled trees lying throughout the Massif. Fluttering down to face Dajh, Hina chirped enthusiastically and puttered around his head until he scrambled to his feet and followed her lead.

As Chocobo and child were about to race past the clumps of ferns dotted along the perimeter of the parked vehicles, the former gave a squawk that brought Dajh to a halt. Hovering in front of the child, Hina puffed out the feathers around her neck as the rangda skulked out from the undergrowth, saliva oozing between its rotting fangs. Fatigued weighed down on her wings, yet Hina still put herself between Dajh and the fiend. She would never leave his side, even if-

The crowbar wiped the sneer off of the rangda's face and sent it tumbling back into the bed of ferns. Accompanying Dajh's gasp of awe with an amazed cheep of her own, the Chocobo chick fluttered a few paces in front of the child as the fiend hobbled away, aiming a somersault kick at the dust trail to guarantee that the creature knew what it would have to deal with it decided to turn around.

* * *

With marked relief, the occupants of the velocycle dismissed the beginnings of a tense atmosphere as they approached the scene of the resolved confrontation. "Looks like you've got it under control, then!" Vanille said, putting her binding rod away while calling out to the man Hope had indicated to be his father. Overhead, she heard Fang chuckle as the rangda fled without hesitance, leading the elder Estheim to return the crowbar to the velocycle he had procured it from.

Having seen the incoming vehicle from afar, Lebreau, Maqui, Yuj and Gadot hurried down to the pass while Snow went about maneuvering the velocycle into the improvised parking space. The quartet paused near Hope's father, Dajh and Hina, waiting on the vehicle to settle before the inevitable stampede of reunions and introductions. Standing closest to the previously parked velocycles, Maqui noticed the crowbar peeking out from beneath the backseat.

"What's with that?" he asked, pointing out a peculiar impression upon the tool.

"Nothing important," the elder Estheim assured, straightening his tie, "Just make sure you don't leave those things lying around. Someone could get hurt."

As soon as the vehicle met the ground, Hope raced towards his father while Sazh, but moments after stepping out of the velocycle, nearly tripped into the front seat when Dajh and Hina tackled him with a hug at full-speed. Placing Bhakti onto the scrub grass, Vanille paced a few feet back from the velocycle and looked to the roof, intending to see if Fang and Lightning were any worse for wear after the return journey.

Any worries she might have harboured were put to rest when a shout beckoned her from the other side of the vehicle. Sprinting in response, the amiable Oerban issued a slight, joyful shriek when Fang intercepted her, lifted her up into the air and twirling around once before reeling her in. Halfway between tears and laughter, she nuzzled the nook where Fang's neck and shoulder met; as her friend patted her head, Vanille believed that, for the first time in their lives, she and Fang were truly safe and sound.

Once the headstrong Oerban set her on her feet again, Vanille lead the way to the front of the vehicle, where their family was beginning to gather together. Surveying the assortment of individuals, Fang turned to her friend, though she spoke with the intent for all to hear. "Now then," she said, "Where's our old man gone off to?"

Summoned from the conversation he had held at his son's height, Sazh's eyes glistened under the moonlight upon hearing the honest endearment. Barely giving him time to reply, the two Oerbans strode towards Sazh and drew him into a fierce hug. "I thought you'd be used to living with the truth by now." Vanille teased, her heart leaping as the pilot's familiar, much-missed laugh filtered into her ears.

"... She's amazing -I mean, you can see for yourself."

Upon catching wind of Hope's conversation with his father, Vanille lessened the affectionate, though tight pressure around Sazh's ribcage and meandered towards the two. "Nice to finally meet you, Mister Estheim," she greeted, giving him a winning smile.

Bartholomew offered her a polite handshake, "I understand you've made quite the impression."

"Have I?" Vanille said, feigning a scowl as laughter drifted over from her friends. Linking arms with Hope and taking the elder Estheim's hand, she continued her response while walking them to where Sazh, Lightning and Snow were in the midst of introducing Fang and Serah to one another.

"I'll have you know that I'm only as much of a statement as the rest of them," the amiable Oerban told Bartholomew, amused to see Hope duck his head as she went on, "Believe me, you've got a real charmer here."

Nearing their assembled family, Vanille looked on with approval as Serah's forgiveness eased the repentant glint in Fang's eyes, to the point in which she earned a smirk from the headstrong Oerban as she voiced her gratitude towards the former's efforts in fighting beside her loved ones, and assisting their survival on numerous occasions.

"Someone's got to keep them out of trouble," Fang said, raising a brow when Vanille let go of Bartholomew and pulled Serah towards her unoccupied side. "With the three of you running around together, we'll need all the help we can get."

"What makes you think that?" Serah questioned, unaware of the conspiring look that passed between Hope and Vanille.

"No reason," the amiable Oerban said, while the silver-haired teen went on to say, "Yeah - other than the fact that you're the one who'll get us into all those crazy situations."

Regardless of the tint on her cheeks, Serah took part in the chorus of laughter without qualm. Once this subsided, Lebreau looked to Snow and Lightning, "Speaking of situations," she started, jerking a thumb in the direction of the distant, crystallized shell, "When are going to explain the sound and lights display to us?"

"We hardly had anything to do with it," Snow informed her, setting a hand on Fang's shoulder and the other atop Vanille's head, "They're the ones who pulled it off."

Wishing to speak his mind without interrupting the flow of conversation, Maqui elbowed Yuj's side, "I knew it," he whispered.

The fashionable teen gave him a curious look, "Knew what?"

"That whatever they did would be awesome." Maqui replied.

"You should be thanking the Eidolons," the amiable Oerban insisted, "We just did what we could to help."

"Oh, sure," Sazh said, playing on Vanille's unassuming reply, "Skewering fal'Cie, keeping Cocoon together - all in a day's work."

Brushing Snow's hand off of her shoulder, Fang lightly punched Sazh's arm, "Come off it," she said, looking to her comrades, "You know where you're credit's due."

Respectively, Snow and Lightning answered her assertion.

"Escape ride."

"Moral support."

Giggling as Fang waved away their humour, Vanille was alerted to a cheerful, albeit tired cheep. Reviving a habit retired by stasis, she laid her palms flat in front of her, the amiable Oerban beamed as the Chocobo chick flew up to the landing pad and settled down with an exhausted chirp.

"Poor thing's really let herself go," Fang tutted, her observation of the fledgling's girth interrupted by a gentle tug on her hand. "Who do we have here?" she inquired, gently picking Dajh up from the ground.

"Daddy says you know everything about anything around here." The child stated, stifling a yawn.

Sazh scratched the back of his head, "Might've been something along those lines," he admitted.

Chuckling, Fang returned her attention to the child, "Well, if you'll let me go out on a limb... one way or another, this is going to lead to talk of Chocobos, isn't it?"

"He never said you could read minds." Dajh pouted.

The headstrong Oerban moved quickly to dispel his discontent. "Well, between you and me," Fang continued, "Vanille's the one you should be asking about that. She's a natural when it comes to interpreting what they've got to say."

Immediately, the child looked to the amiable Oerban, "Can you teach me?" He pleaded.

What lingered of Vanille's previous, unspoken despair over never being able to see Dajh appear so carefree, after all he had been through, vanished in an instant. "Of course," she replied. On a note that reached out to the change of fate their family had brought about, to bring she and Fang back among them, she added, "I've all the time in the world."

Her smile grew as Bhakti wheeled tracks around her gathered, complete family, as if to affirm that the sun had set on their sorrows.


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N:** Well, here we are. xD A huge thank-you goes to ReadingChick and Truth-Unspoken for being fantastic beta readers, and to all the readers, reviewers, and folks who stored Avante among their catalogues of favourite stories: thanks for providing the best motivation, support and patience there is, and I hope you've had as much fun reading this fic as I did writing it.

As for the remaining notes for the fic as a whole:

- When Avante was still in its conceptual stages, implicating a the potential of a relationship between Lightning and Fang was among the first ground rules to be set down outside of the main motivation of 'reuniting the family'. A few aspects of the earliest plot points survived into the final product, such as Bahamut and Hecatoncheir's final attack, Serah and Hope's grand theft velocycle and Hina's name.

- In her previous Final Fantasy appearances, Asura is depicted as a female summon or boss with three faces on her head. Here, her appearance was based on a merge of the scale pattern seen in Australian monitor lizards, and the depiction of the hydra in Greek mythology.

-I owe RC for encouraging the prominence of Titan and the Menhirrim.

In the meantime, I'll be taking a slight break from writing in order to focus on drawing and flesh out fic ideas that have been simmering for quite some time. This is by no means a hiatus xD I might put out a few one-shots or drabbles, but as for now, I can't foresee much coming along in the immediate future.

If anyone still wants some questions answered, are curious about what I might have in mind for a sequel to this, or just want to swing by for a chat, you can catch me masquerading around DeviantArt as QuaterComet, or quaterzaz on Livejournal.

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33

In the month succeeding the defeat of Asura, the population returned to their home without incident and with much consideration towards permanently inhabiting the mountain range. The scenic landscape had captivated countless minds, and several more sought to protect the Paddran Archaeopolis from the desecration of fiends and mortals alike. However, plans to pursue colonization would be put on hold until the process of constructing proper homes, office blocks, and the site of the new Transports building was complete.

With the Subterra freed of malice, Atomos had returned to his usual haunts and cleared through the cave-ins and rubble that had accumulated in his absence. The reappearance of the Mah'habara fal'Cie had initially gathered wariness, yet following numerous eyewitness accounts of the people involved in the Transports quake, there had been an influx in production of gravity-controlling manadrives. Subsequently, mining and excavation operations resumed once workers were equipped with said technology. In the case of the latter faction, there was a degree of curiosity over what had led to the magnificent refortification of Cocoon's foundations; ultimately, life went on as usual, and the excavation affiliates took to their reinforced work without complaint.

Drained of floodwaters, the Archlyte Steppe was making a steady recovery from the wildlife compromised by the downpour, as it experienced a remarkable growing season that resulted in the widespread migration of neighbouring species. Splendid though the natural wonders in Gran Pulse were, many civilians still thought of the varied environments that had flourished in Cocoon. As thus, they would assert that, even in memory, the beauty housed in sights such as the golden sands of Bodhum or skyline of Palumpolum would never tarnish.

Beneath the evening sky, it would become common knowledge that the Vallis Media was an ideal location for hosting a celebration of matrimony. Luminescent flowers unfolded to soak in the moonlight, which glimmered over the surface of a calm creek while climbing plants and hanging moss decorated the eroded mountain walls, sheltering the ceremony from vile audience and malicious intent. Arrangements of dining tables, chairs and crystal lanterns added to the splendour of the occasion, facing the altar arranged between two palm trees and offering the utmost hospitality to the guests as the wedding reception went well underway.

Eyes alight with joy and contentment, Serah was a vision in white as she, her husband and her sister permitted one of several cameras to capture a frame of their happiness. While the colour scheme of the celebration was worn about in appealing shades of crimson and silver, the bride had called upon the aesthetic assistance of her friends - one amiable and the other fashionable - to weave Oerban lilacs into the wavy hair cascading down her back. Under Vanille's care, the flowers bloomed to the point in which they nearly overwhelmed the windowsill outside of the study. In light of this, Yuj believed his earlier gift to Serah had been put to good use, and was pleased to see that the petals did, indeed, compliment the colour of her hair.

At the lively insistence of a certain quartet and their friends, the guests began to relocate a handful of chairs and tables to the perimeter of the location, in order to accommodate the wireless software and general space required for dancing to take place. While gifted in all manner of technological applications, Bhakti chose to refrain from offering his assistance; rather, the robot sought to wheel beneath the closest chair and, with petals and an array of festive beads strewn about him, began a long, well-deserved hibernation.

As much as they enjoyed the surroundings and progression of the reception, Sazh and Bartholomew voted to linger by the dining chairs and take part in the forthcoming waltzes and modern moves as an audience. To anyone who asked, they justified their lack of participation with the somewhat exaggerated excuse of poor knees and the risk of pulling a ligament. To anyone who knew them well, the fathers wished to relax and remember this as the first of many occasions in which their young relatives were brought together in merriment.

With his arms folded over his chest, Sazh looked into the crowd at the other end of the clearing and too note of Dajh and Hina as they led one of the guests to get a better view of the revelry. "C'mon, Miss Sorangel!" the child said, his enthusiasm accompanied by a current of excited chirping, "Auntie Vanille said she's gonna go dancing!"

"Alright, alright," the ISD affiliate laughed, "Just don't drag me into any two-steps. It's been ages since I went through that mess."

"Never would've guessed it," commented her superior and former lieutenant, overhearing the exchange.

Sorangel waved away his amusement, "I'd pay to see you give it a go," she teased before following after the child.

Sending a curious glance after the two guests, Sazh turned to Bartholomew, "They hanging around for formality's sake?" he asked.

"Keeping the peace, ensuring nothing goes out of hand," Bartholomew explained, "Or so they would have you know."

"So much for no strings attached to those invitations." Sazh chuckled.

At the far end of the father's side of the crowd, Lightning smiled as the married couple took the lead of the slow, harmonious music that filled the air. Garbed in pleats of silver hemmed, deep red fabric draped down from her right shoulder and over her body, the official sister-in-law stepped back as the amiable Oerban ushered her young friend closer to the line of waiting dancers.

Hope cast a reluctant glance at the dance floor, "This Tsubaddran shuffle-"

"Contemporary Tsubaddran shuffle," Vanille corrected, giving him a cross expression while motioning to Lebreau, Gadot, Maqui and Yuj, "We've been planning this out for hours, and you're about to back out?"

"You only told me about it five minutes a-" Hope began, relenting as the amiable Oerban's glare persisted. The silver-haired teen looked over his shoulder, silently beseeching help from his mentor. With an encouraging smirk, Lightning inclined her head towards the clearing, leading Hope to swallow his doubt and relinquish a hand to his friend.

Vanille turned to Lightning, "Knew I could count on you," she smiled. Taking Hope's hand, she went while bringing them towards their waiting dance participants. "If I told you once, I told you twice," she reminded him, "As far as partners go, we're one of a kind!"

Affectionately shaking her head at their antics, Lightning remained with the crowd a while longer, observing the cheer that arose as the beat kicked up in tandem with two adolescents and Snow's side of the family leaping into the clearing. Weaving to the back of the audience, the former soldier scanned the periphery of the location until, across the creek, she caught sight of her.

Fang watched the festivities from afar, her choice of silver cloth and red embellishments shimmering under the dappled moonlight. Crossing through the cold waters, Lightning approached her comrade, leaving a respectful, silent space between them as she paused at her side. The music and laughter seemed distant as she observed the headstrong Oerban, noticing the hand that was curled around her right arm, as though to confirm yet again that she was not trapped within a dream.

Scars such as those that lurked at the back of their minds and flared in their nightmares would never allow themselves to be fully healed. From the wyvern talons marking her shoulder, or the faded weals that circled Fang's wrists, though the shackles had long since been destroyed, Lightning knew the trance of being unable to see beyond reopened wounds affected her comrade more than either of them would prefer.

Without tearing her gaze away from the celebration, Fang spoke.

"Over the years, I lost count of the things that'd slipped from my grasp," she confided softly, the lantern lights dancing across her faraway eyes, "For so long, Vanille was all I had left, all that kept me grounded." Lowering her eyes, she frowned bitterly, "Had I taken one false step, or backed down when I should've stood before her..."

"We'd still bring you home." Lightning told her, picking up where Fang had trailed off.

There would be scars and torments would be revisited, yet Lightning's tone carried her determination for there to be battles and victory, each greater than the next, until all that remained of the hated recollections was little more than a ghost of a thought.

The headstrong Oerban blinked, the shadows leaving her eyes as she took sight of the crowd once more. "I was sure we'd never find that again," she said, tossing her friend a wry grin, "One of those rare times when I've been proven wrong."

Lightning gave an amused scoff, crossing her arms as a familiar flock of silhouettes cut past the stars, idly soaring towards their nesting grounds. Their freedom was no longer something to be envied; this she was well-aware of as she maintained a casual front. "How soon before you head out?" she asked Fang.

Her comrade considered the question without hesitance. In this time, the former soldier picked away at tentative contemplation. She understood it was perfectly reasonable for Fang to move on from Niflheim, as soon and as briskly as she wished. There was plenty for her to rediscover in the world of her birth, many monuments to pay her respects to and nothing to hold her back from journeying beyond the horizon. Nevertheless, Lightning could not quell the small, bemusing sense of deprivation that pursued these truths; not a year out of stasis, and already she was biting back the concept of losing her comrade all over again.

"It'll be a while until the yearlings return to the grounds," Fang said, summoning her out of contemplation as she referred to the Svarogs that had passed by. "Gives me enough time to pull some tethers together." Taking in the stars, she added, "Those vehicles are nice enough, but when it comes to taking to the skies with one of those creatures... You just can't compare."

Before Lightning could formulate a reply to her thoughtful reflection, Fang propped a hand on her hip, "There's still the trouble of company," she sighed.

The former soldier received this with particular interest, intending to express light sarcasm in reference to a long-ago, partnered excursion, "Sorry to bore you."

Initially, she assumed the comment had come across in an affronting manner; dipping her chin, Lightning realized that her tone had been a merged culmination of the certainty and loyalty that had brought her to the threshold of the crystal chamber. With a slightly flustered sigh, Fang looked out across the creek, avoiding her eyes.

"It's quite the trip," she pointed out.

"If you're unprepared," Lightning countered.

Fang tilted her head in the direction of the married couple. "Sure you don't want to-"

"Give them room to breathe?" she interjected, daring her comrade to further test her resolve.

After a brief pause, the headstrong Oerban raised her brow and softly bumped Lightning's hip. "This better not be a way of saying I've gotten soft," she warned.

With a sly smirk, the former soldier shrugged. "Wouldn't be surprised."

Fang gave in to an unrestrained smile while she and Lightning returned to the crowd, arriving in time to join the roar of applause as the contemporary Tsubaddran shuffle came to a close; as they basked in the unity of their family and the absence of solitude, the wind brushed past their shoulders.


End file.
